By Honor Bound Part 19

"I'm frightened," she said to Talcoran oneevening. She pushed a heavy lock of hair off her forehead with weary hands, swollen like her feet tounrecognizable plumpness. "How I wish Fionna were here."

"I am going to send Dougal for the midwife tomorrow," he told her. "She will stay with us until your time

comes.""No, I won't let that witch near me.""If I order it, you have no choice.""Talcoran, I beg you. I have Ava, and Briga will help. Don't bring that dreadful old woman into myhome."

Talcoran exclaimed with impatience as Elen went to her knees before him. He lifted her roughly to her

feet."What nonsense is this? I'm trying to help you, woman." He peered at her intently, seeing the terror in hereyes. "What is it, what's the real reason for this fear?"

"She is the woman who attended my mother when I was born. My mother bled to death. My fatheralways thought it was the midwife's fault."Talcoran folded her in his arms, soothing her."I never knew. I wondered why you refused her the last time. I didn't insist on her presence then because Fionna was here. Very well, I won't call her."

Elen pressed a hand against her back.

"I am so uncomfortable," she complained, and then laughed at Talcoran's expression. "Don't worry, you still have another month and a half to wait for your next son."

As it happened, he did not have to wait very long at all. The pains began that night, shortly after she went to bed. Her first labor had taken only half a day, and Fionna had promised the second would be faster and easier, but Elen walked alone all night, and then through the day that followed, with Ava and Briga supporting her. By nightfall she could no longer stand or even kneel.

She lay on the straw mattress on the floor whimpering with each pain.

Talcoran's worried face swam before her."I must call the midwife," he said."No, no, you promised," she panted. "I would rather have the man who births the horses."

"You are mad with pain. I am going to send Dougal."

"My lord." Elen heard Briga's heavily accented voice. She could only catch a few words of conversationthrough the unremitting pain that gripped her. "No time . . . she will die ... if you will let me."

Talcoran was pulling her up, forcing mead down her throat with grim determination. She choked.

"Swallow it," he ordered. "And keep it down. There will be more pain and this will ease it."

"My lord, you must leave," Briga said. "This is not a man's place.""I can hold her for you.""The kitchen maid will hold her. Ava and I will do what we can."They were giving her more mead. Her head was swimming and the pain was becoming worse.

Talcoran let her go. Unfamiliar hands took her and held her down on the straw mattress. She had no idea what they did to her. She only knew she had never borne such dreadful, flaming pain. Mercifully, she had to endure it for only a few moments before she fell into a deep, black pit.

When she opened her eyes the sun was setting in gold and pink splendor. She was unable to move. It was not until Briga appeared that she was even aware she was still alive.

"You have slept a day and a half. Now you must eat," Briga said, and began to spoon hot broth into her. Elen swallowed obediently, too weak to say anything.

"You have another son," Briga told her, and Elen fell asleep again.

Sometime during the night she opened her eyes to find Talcoran hunched on a stool by her bed. He held her hand tightly in his as though he would transfer some of his strength to her. Still she could not speak. She felt the tears pouring out of her eyes, and she experienced a deep sadness as though some great tragedy had occurred.

"My love," Talcoran whispered, "I thought I had lost you. We must never do this again. I could not bear to live without you."

She did not understand what he was talking about, but he had called her his love. She dropped into peaceful slumber once more.

Elen recovered slowly. She lay for days unable to move or to rouse herself to any but the simplest answer to queries about her health.

"I have never seen so much blood," Ava told her one day. "It was all over the floor. It took half the night to clean it up."

Elen said nothing. Ava finished washing Elen's face, then began to braid her hair.

"We all thought you would die. Thank heaven Briga was here. She knew what to do. Did you know the baby was turned the wrong way?"

"No."

"And now she is nursing him. He is so tiny. Briga says babies born before their time seldom live, but her milk is plentiful and he is growing. Have you seen him?"

"No. Please stop.""Stop braiding your hair?" Ava looked startled. "Am I pulling it too tightly?"

"Stop talking. I'm tired." When she was stronger, Briga brought the baby to her. He was impossibly small, with a fringe of dark hair and large blue eyes. Elen, sitting up for the first time since his birth a week before, took him in her arms. He stared up at her, unblinking.

"How wise he looks." "He is a good baby, mistress." "We need to find a name for him." "I thought youknew. Oh, mistress, I'm sorry. I should have told you."

Talcoran had come into the room while Briga was speaking.

"It's all right, Briga," he said. "Elen, we feared he would not live through the first night, and so we had him baptised at once. His name is Aiden."

"Aiden." Elen touched the baby's petal-soft cheek with one finger. "Yes. I like that name." Her son gavea soft, mewling cry, then a stronger one. "I'll take him away and feed him." Briga picked up the tinybundle and left the room. "She saved your life," Talcoran said. "I know, Ava told me. We must never letBriga want for anything, even when we no longer need a wet nurse."

"Agreed." Talcoran examined her face. "You are getting better. You have a little color now.""It's all the red meat and wine you've beenmaking me swallow, even when I didn't want to.""I have been so worried about you." Talcoranheld both her hands tightly. "Elen, we must nothave any more children."Her wits were so foggy these days that it took a while for his meaning to sink into her mind. "No," she said at last. "Don't leave me alone." "We have two strong sons. That is enough. Idon't want to risk losing you. When you are well enough, choose any room you want for your chamber.

You may have the finest silks to hang in it, I'll bring carvers to Laggan to make you a new bed if you like.But we will not lie together again.""No!" She lifted her weak, heavy arms and put them about his neck. She rested her head on his strong shoulder and wept. "Talcoran, I love you. Don't do this to me."

He sat like a man made of stone, completely unresponsive to her-or so she thought until a large, hot drop of moisture fell upon her bare neck, then another. She lifted her head and gaped in utter astonishment.

His face was impa.s.sive, his eyes blank, but fierce Talcoran was weeping. She tenderly touched his

cheek, wiping away a tear. Slowly he focused on her face.

"My love," she whispered.

He came to life then, crushing her in his arms, raining kisses on her face and throat, and his scalding tears

mingled with hers.

"How I love you!" he cried. "I want no other woman. I pray G.o.d I have the strength to stay away from your bed. If you bear another child it will surely kill you. Elen, Elen, what are we going to do?"

They remained at Laggan that winter. Elen was not well enough to travel, and the outlaw band Talcoran

had been ordered to bring to justice had disappeared into the hills at the first snow.

Elen's strength gradually returned. Anxious to leave the room in which she had given birth, with its unpleasant a.s.sociations, she moved into the bedchamber she had occupied as a young girl. Its narrow window faced south, and the pale

winter sun shone in, bringing both light and a faint hint of warmth.

As soon as she was able to sit up for a length of time, Talcoran carried her down the wide stone staircase to the great hall. There she sat each evening, ensconced in her father's big chair by the firepit, wrapped in furs and shawls, with her feet propped on a low stool to keep them above the chill drafts that scudded along the stone floor.

"You need to be with people," Talcoran said, "It will cheer you up, and you can direct the household from here."

Bancho came for Christmas.

"It's lonely at Lochaber," he said. "I miss my friends, and my son."

"I thought you were at court," Elen responded. "I hoped you would have news of Fionna."

"I knew you would ask," Bancho said with a laugh, "so, last week when one of my men rode from Scone to Lochaber, I got most of the court gossip from him. Fionna had a daughter the day before my man left. She will be named Elen, in your honor."

"How lovely!" Elen exclaimed. "Are you returning to Scone when you leave here, Bancho? May I give you a letter for Fionna?"

"I'll not go back to court for a while, la.s.s. Why don't you have one of Talcoran's couriers carry your message?"

"What's wrong?" Talcoran asked, hearing, as Elen had, the odd note in Bancho's voice.

"Our king is none too fond of me these days." Bancho stretched his legs toward the fire and leaned back in his favorite chair. Talcoran handed him a cup of ale and Bancho tasted it appreciatively before continuing. "Macbeth has never forgiven me for letting Patric mac Keith take Malcolm and his brothers out of Alba. Not to mention my giving Patric a pa.s.s for Duncan's body."

"But he made you his chief general," Elen said.

"Aye, la.s.s, and that's part of my problem. I lead the army and I am a mite too popular with my men for Macbeth's ease of mind."

"Macbeth should know you are his man," Talcoran said quietly.

"Aye, he should." Bancho sipped at his ale and stared into the fire. "Sometimes I wonder what demons our kings wrestles with in the dark of night. Since there are no wars to fight, it seemed wise for me to quit Scone for a while. I'll go back in the summer and be as charming as an old man can be."

He was growing old, Elen realized. He was the same age as her father had been, which would make him nearly fifty. There was new silver in his dark hair and beard, and he moved more slowly now. Well, she was no longer young herself. She would be twenty on her next birthday, and Talcoran had just turned thirty.

How quickly time pa.s.ses, she thought. How short our lives are.

Just as Elen began to feel well again, the bitter cold came. Beneath the full winter moon, wolves howled into the January nights. Servants took to their beds with the illnesses that came every winter.

Young Colin developed a severe cold that left him with a heavy cough and a perpetually runny nose. Aiden continued to thrive, but Elen worried about him. He was so small. If Briga should fall ill and lose her milk, what would happen to her fragile younger son?

Then she herself caught Colin's cold.

"Stay in bed," Talcoran advised. "Keep warm. I don't want you to be ill again."

His advice was useless. Within three days, Elen was coughing constantly, with a high fever. She lapsed into delirium, plagued by fantastic dreams. It was a week before she was well enough to ask about her children. When she did, Ava burst into tears, horrifying Elen.

"Aiden has died," Ava told her bluntly. "Briga went to give him his morning feeding one day, and he lay dead in his cradle. Briga blamed herself and wouldn't eat, until she fell ill just like you, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were clogged with milk and we thought she would die, too."

Elen struggled to make some sense of this confused story. All she had really heard was that her son was dead.

"Where is Talcoran?" she asked. "Where is Colin?"

"Colin is well, thank G.o.d, and my lord Talcoran sits below in the hall. He is very unhappy, mistress."

"Tell him I want to see him." Talcoran came at once. He stood erect, as stiff and cool and self-contained as he had been when first she knew him. She could tell he had been drinking heavily. She held out her arms to him, wanting to comfort and be comforted. Talcoran did not appear to notice.

"Ava tells me you are better," he said, his speech abnormally clear and careful.

"Oh, my dear love," Elen whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Let me hold you." Still he made no move toward her. "The weather has cleared," he told her. "My men and I leave tomorrow to search for those outlaws. I do not know how many days we will be gone. Dougal will remain in charge of Laggan Castle. I can leave Fergus, too, if you wish it, my lady."

Elen looked at him in despair. "Do whatever you want," she said. Talcoran was gone for nearly a week. By the time he returned Elen was out of bed and had begun to resume her duties. He paid little attention to her. He threw himself into work, planning new stables to be built the following summer and a building to house his men-at-arms more comfortably. He sat up late at night, dictating to his secretary long reports to be sent to Macbeth at Scone. He ate too little. He drank constantly and deeply, although he never showed the effects of it.

Elen was in little better condition. She had grown thin again. All the soft roundness of motherhood she had developed after Colin was born now wasted away in grief over Aiden.

Only Colin brought any joy into Laggan Castle that late winter. He had begun to walk, and he stumbled cheerfully about the great hall, gurgling with baby laughter, his deep blue eyes bright with mischief. Briga, who was recovering slowly from her own illness, cared for him tenderly.

Elen grew closer to both Briga and Ava. After the ordeals of the past months she felt they were more her friends than her servants. In her increasing isolation from Talcoran, she needed them.

She spent long hours on her knees in the tiny chapel that opened off one end of the great hall, praying for both Aiden and Talcoran until the priest himself warned her about the effect the chilly room would have on her fragile health.

Spring came but slowly. There was a soft breeze one evening, then a faint touch of green on the hillsides. There were a few early flowers scattered here and there, and the ice that had clogged rivers and streams was gone. Briga took Colin to play in the new gra.s.s by the loch.