Page 71 of While Angels Slept
The priest cocked his head. “In fact,” he said, “there is a rather large camp of outlaws not far from here. They raid our stores quite frequently and I even caught one of them trying to steal from the church. I told him he would burn in hell and he laughed at me.”
Myles was somewhat interested in what he was saying. “Where is this camp?”
The priest pointed to the northeast. “That way, a few miles. If you take the small trail from the town that leads over the stream, follow it until it ends and keep going. You will run into the camp less than an hour later.”
It was as good an option as anything else. At least it would be something to focus Tevin on other than the innocents of the scared little village. Nodding his thanks, Myles marched back towards his charger, and towards Tevin, whistling loudly between his teeth as he went. When the soldiers turned to him, he issued orders to cease their activities and mount their horses. Tevin, having heard the command, waited impatiently for Myles to come within earshot.
“These people did not take Cantia or Arabel,” Myles said before Tevin could yell at him. “However, the priest has told me of an encampment of outlaws a few miles to the northeast. I suggest we focusour attentions there.”
“How do you know Cantia isn’t here?” Tevin demanded as Myles mounted his horse.
“Because the trail we found was from those two frightened young men over there,” Myles said, pointing in the direction of the priest and a small, frightened crowd. “The men were hunting down a lost lamb and came across Gavril and Dagan. They stole a few weapons off of them. They said that when they found the knights that they were quite alone. No one else was around. The priest suggested we try the known outlaws in the area. More than likely, they would have what we are looking for.”
Tevin wasn’t happy but, truth be told, but it made some sense. Outlaws would more than likely be to blame, as villagers did not usually ambush travelers on the open road. So he allowed Myles to issue commands as the men gathered and sped off to the northeast section of the village where a small footpath led to the stream and then continued on the other side.
The sun was nearly gone as the army raced northeast, tearing up meadows and forests and foliage as they went. Horses thundered and snorted, and the destriers that Tevin and Myles rode, excited by the sense of urgency in the air, charged at the head of the pack and snapped at anything they drew close to. They believed they were heading into battle and for Tevin, too, it was his sense as well. His apprehension and fury were driving him.
Less than an hour into their ride, the group headed into a particularly dense cluster of trees and Tevin and Miles had to raise their visors to see in the weak light. They could see something up ahead. Tevin raised a hand, calling a halt to the brigade, as they sighted the faint flickers of fires in the distance.
As they slowed their pace to study the distant flames, an arrow zinged past Tevin’s head. Startled, Myles snatched the crossbow tethered on the right flank of his horse and lifted the weapon, pointing it in the direction that the arrow had come from. As the men spread outto capture whoever had fired the arrow, Myles caught movement when the man, stationed in the trees and covered with soot to conceal himself, launched another arrow.
This arrow had flame to it, sailing in an arc towards the distant fires. Myles launched his own arrow at the man, hitting his mark and watching the man fall to the ground in a heap. Even though he’d taken out the lookout, the damage was done. The flaming arrow had been a warning signal to the camp and Tevin knew their cover was blown. In the darkness, in the trees, he slammed his visor down and unsheathed his broadsword.
“We have been announced,” he said to Myles. “Make no delays. If Cantia and Arabel really are in that camp, they might try to kill them with our appearance.”
Myles spurred his charger after Tevin, listening to the sounds as the distant settlement began to take up alarm cries. As they plowed through the trees and into the perimeter of what appeared to be a very large encampment, Myles headed in one direction to search and Tevin headed in the other.
He could only pray, for all their sakes, that they weren’t too late.
*
“Your son, my lady.”
Cantia was smiling as she handed over the swaddled, screaming bundle to the exhausted mother. Overjoyed, the red-faced woman accepted the child, weeping as she gazed upon the angry little face for the first time. Cantia watched the joy, remembering well when she had given birth to Hunt and the euphoria she and Brac had experienced. The joy of the successful childbirth was almost enough to ease the fear of her captivity and she took a few moments to forget her predicament.
As she watched the new mother, she began to wonder if she and Tevin would ever be blessed with a child. She had lost one pregnancy before Hunt was born and had not conceived again since his birth, so she wondered if she was even able to have any more children. Brac hadnever said a word about it although she knew he would have liked more children.
She wondered if Tevin would become disappointed in her if she wasn’t able to bear him a son. It really wasn’t something she’d thought about until now. Cantia was torn between wanting to provide Tevin with more children and knowing any children they had together would be bastards. But she pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the new mother and baby at her feet.
“See if he will suckle,” she encouraged. “Put him on the breast and feed him.”
The new mother moved her shift aside to expose a big, plump breast and put the infant to the nipple. The baby latched on and began to feed eagerly and, at that point, the other women in the hut crowded around and took over, and Cantia knew her job was finished.
She had done what she had been called to do. After initially examining the woman, she realized that the child had been turned about in the womb. She then proceeded to oil the mother’s belly up with grease and massage the child until the baby rotated around so he was facing head-first. She’d seen the midwife at Rochester grease up bellies when babies were facing the wrong direction and, fortunately, her observations had paid off. She’d been able to help.
It was an action she hoped would sway Gillywiss. The man had been seated just inside the hut door during the entire event, his eyes on Cantia as if afraid she was going to disappear. As Cantia washed her hands in clean water, she stole a glance over her shoulder at the man still sitting there in the shadows. With a deep breath for courage, for calm, she made her way over to him.
“I have never known a man to remain in the same room as a woman giving birth,” she said. “You are very brave.”
Gillywiss was gazing up at her from his position on the stool. He was leaning back against the wall of the hut, his dark curly hair wild around his somewhat pensive face. He seemed quiet and introspective. He was just watching her as she dried her hands on her surcoat.
“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.
She cocked her head curiously. “What?”
He gestured at the woman with the infant. “Deliver a child like that. Are you a physic?”
Cantia finished drying her hands off. “Nay,” she said. “But as the lady of Rochester, people come to me for help. I have learned a few things in my time.”
