The Beast of Caer Baddan (48 page)

Queen Madge laid Ambrosius in Leola's arms, and Leola returned to the waiting bishop, who then did the same for him as he had for the first child.

Ambrosius did not wail from it, but instead let out a high pitched whimper, as if too sick and weak give a thorough protest.

Leola’s heart panged for him.

Once we are home, he shall be well again.

When their party had returned to the castle, Leola excused herself and took the babies back to her rooms.

“I'm very tired, Father,” she said to King Irael. “Please. I need to go to sleep.”

“Of course you are,” he replied, sympathetically. “Rest. I shall have the servants bring you in some dinner.”

King Irael returned to the hall and told the others that Leola would not be joining them.

“A silly notion brother,” Queen Severa replied. “Of course she is tired. That does not excuse her from her duty.”

“Little Sister,” King Irael said gently, “she has had enough duties for one day and shall have many more when the Solstice feast comes. We shall eat now and let her rest.”

He saw by her frown that she was upset over his decision, and was glad when Queen Madge stepped in to assist him.

“It is not as though you have much to talk to her about, Queen Severa,” she said. “Come tell me all about your little Scothnoe. I heard she was placed on the list for warrioress companion.”

The meal was brought and three kings and two queens ate and talked.

“I'm so proud of Scothnoe,” Queen Severa said to Queen Madge. “She wanted the position so much that she actually learned to drive chariot. I do not know if she shall ever sit in the Circle but it is a great pleasure to see that she set her mind to mastering her skills.”

“I'm certain that she shall be Warrioress of Atrebat one day,” King Emrys replied.

“First she must be made warrioress companion,” said King Gourthigern. “And that is the real gamble.”

“That cannot be long,” King Irael said. “Half of the girls on the list will be married before the Solstice feast. That happens every year.”

“Does Lady Scothnoe have any lovers?” Queen Madge asked.

“Certainly not,” King Gourthigern replied.

As the conversation continued from one topic to another, King Irael could hardly follow. His chest ached and his jaw seemed to grow tense and constrained.

“Aurelius!”
came his sister's frantic voice. “You are ill?”

“It is nothing,” King Irael replied.
“Nothing at all. What were you saying?”

Queen Severa shook her head at him. “You really must take better care of yourself, Brother,” she said.

“I am. I am. I assure you.”

But the pressure in his chest would not disappear.

Chapter Thirty Eight: Healing

Owain had always been in movement and to be now sedentary was a pleasant change, yet his thirst for an answer would not allow him to be distracted by his peaceful surroundings.

He removed his battered armor and damaged clothes, and washed the filth off of his tired body. To his utter disgust he found that he was covered in his own urine, sweat, and vomit.  His clothing and hair were matted with hard dry mud. The left side of his face was covered in a curly beard while the right side seemed hard and rough, as if it were a slice of old cooked meat.

He was surprised to find that there was an odd puncture wound with blackened skin around it on his right hand and a strange purple-colored hue on his chest, as if they had been burned from underneath his skin. The rest of his body seemed unaltered from before, and he looked over his old scars with a whimsical remembrance.

“But where did I get these?" he said to himself, staring again at his right hand.

His mind was clouded and confused.

“I must have hit my head on something very h
ard,” he said.

The dirty water proved an inefficient bath and even less valuable mirror, but Owain was grateful for any little cleanse no matter how counterproductive it may have seemed.

The next day brought a worsened condition for Ambrosius. The baby refused to nurse with Leola, and even when a nursemaid was brought in, he would not take any milk. His skin became pa
tchy and dry, and the yellow hue which covered his face now traveled to the rest of his tiny body.

Leola thought over and over what her aunt Redburga would do in such a situation.

“Shall I send for the healer, Princess?” the steward asked.

“No,” Leola replied. “Set up a bonfire.”

“A bonfire, Princess?”

“A bonfire.
It is cold outside, but Ambrosius needs the sun. Set up a bonfire to keep him warm.”

“As you wish,” and the steward was gone with the order.

Leola laid Ambrosius against her breast and shoulder and went outside.

The crisp morning air blew through her hair and chilled her face, as she walked across the courtyard. The servants hastened to assemble the necessary fuel and light the blaze. Leola stopped a short distance away, close enough to be warm and far enough to be out of reach of the flying ashes.

God, please let this heal him.

Leola
unwrapped the blanket so that Ambrosius’ back was bare. Then she closed her eyes and faced the rising sun, so that the low light of the autumn’s day touched the baby’s back.

Let the sun heal him.

“I'm in Gododdin,” Owain said, trying to organize his thoughts.

His stiff body and ailing back made it hard to concentrate on a hazy memory.

“I'm aiding King Coel against the Maetae Pictii.”

He rubbed his head and face as if to correct that statement. He did not know what land he was in, but he was certain that it was not the North Country.

“I went to Gododdin to aid King Coel,” he said, his voice marked with determination. “Britu, Swale, and I fought alongside the Brigantae in three battles. We won a decisive victory and devastated the Pictii camp just beyond the ruins of the small wall. King Coel held a feast in our honor, and Annon danced.”

Somehow, he knew that these memories must have been from many months before and not from the immediate past. His sense of time and perception had been altered.

As he felt up the back of his head, he found it sore and tender. He must have hit his head, or perhaps just laying down for a long time had made it sensitive. His back as well was stiff and pained, but perhaps that as well was from the crude bed rather than an actual injury.

He thought of King Coel's daughter, Lady Gwawl, how they met, and how the king forbade her to see him.

“He sent her to her uncle's in Venedotia.”

He remembered fighting the Angle champion in Ebrauc and the journey south to the Kingdom of Lerion.

“We received word from my uncle King Gourthigern of a rebellion. The Gewissae. The Gewissae were planning a rebellion.”

He knew they had traveled further south to Atrebat and greeted the king.

“We decided to destroy the Gewissae village of Hol. We traveled there and attacked before the fourth watch.”

The earlmenn's executions and also the
boy, a Gewissae aetheling, who Owain had spared, came to his mind.

He remembered his dream of the woman washing his tunic and how he was to die in battle the next day. He thought on his one regret, that he had no heir for his father.

Then like a wave of clarity, Leola's face was before him.

“I must get to Baddan.”

Every morning, Leola took Ambrosius out to the courtyard to sun his tiny back. At first she noticed no improvement in his condition. But soon, he came more to demand to be nursed than to refuse, his quiet high pitched whimper turned into the boisterous wail of a healthy child, and his color turned from yellow to white as snow.

After nearly two weeks of sun, Ambrosius was almost as strong as his brother, and Leola breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“What is going on, Father?” Leola asked.

She looked around the great hall at the servants moving furniture and piling up wood for the fireplaces.

“The Lords of Glouia shall be here tomorrow night,” King Irael replied.

Leola shook her head, trying to clear it. She had been so concerned for Ambrosius' condition that she forgot about the upcoming feast.

“All of the lords?” she asked.

“And I shall introduce them to you,” the king replied, with a nod of the head. “But you do not need to remember their names.”