by Sakwa, Kim
Greylen had already lowered himself. Kevin and Hugh were holding lanterns from above, watching as he inspected the walls for discoloration and the water for odors.
Gavin took the rope and slid down. They stood in the water glaring at each other. “I see no signs, but I want it covered just the same,” Greylen ordered. “How could we not see it, Gavin? How?”
“We thought ’twas from her carrying,” he shouted. “I’m just as guilty, Greylen.”
“Did you see her body?” Greylen whispered.
“Aye. If you’d not awakened, Greylen…” He didn’t finish—he couldn’t.
Greylen finally gave the signal and they were pulled up, ordering a group of men to fill the well immediately. Then they stormed back to the keep and straight to the kitchen.
Greylen and Gavin lit every wick as Ian left to fetch Cook.
Gwen opened her eyes sometime later, confused by her surroundings. Then she realized she was in Lady Madelyn’s chamber. “Mother,” she whispered weakly.
“Aye, child, I’m here. You’ll be all right, Gwendolyn, you just need rest.”
“I ha—” An intense cramp made her gasp. “Speak—” Gasp. “Grey—”
“He’s outside with his men,” she said, gently pushing the hair away from Gwen’s face.
“Please.”
Lady Madelyn went to the door and when she opened it, Ian and Connell stepped inside. Obviously wishing to check her condition for themselves, they walked to the bed. They took note of her skin tone and inspected her eyes.
“Connell…take me to Greylen,” she whispered, holding out her arms.
He didn’t refuse her and cradled her in his arms as he carried her down the stairs. As they walked through the foyer he looked to Ian. “Lady, I must lay you down,” Connell said, trying to keep the anguish from his voice and failing quite miserably.
She could feel blood seeping along her legs and felt awful that he and Ian had to witness it, but she had to speak to Greylen. “Take me to my husband, Connell,” she said weakly. Then she added, though the words were barely audible, “’Tis an order.”
Gwen was confused when they passed the study, but when Ian held open the swinging doors, the sight before her made her aware that they already knew. The kitchen was ablaze in light, and Cook stood between her husband and Gavin at the island. Kevin and Hugh were in the process of emptying the entire pantry.
Cook, Greylen, and his men looked up at the same time. Each of them appeared horrified as they looked at her.
Greylen came forward, taking his wife from his man’s arms, exchanging a look with Connell he wished never to need again. They were all in agony. Her plight tore at their hearts.
“Why are you out of bed, sweet?” Greylen smiled, pretending as though he’d not a care in the world.
“Not…buying it…husband,” Gwen whispered. She reached for his face, tears in her eyes. “The tea, Greylen…the tea.”
They had just been about to open the canister when Connell arrived with Gwen. Cook was sure ’twas the one thing Lady Gwendolyn had daily. And hoping to keep the wedding gift only for her mistress, she’d not allowed another to sample it.
Greylen watched Gavin lift the lid and spill the contents. They gathered around the island searching through the crushed leaves. The sight and smell confirmed ’twas a mixture of herbs used as an abortifacient. But Gwen had taken so much, it not only killed their babe, but possibly her as well.
“Find where it came from,” Greylen ordered. “I’ll be above stairs.”
Greylen knew not to ask for guards, his men would likely sleep with them if they deemed it necessary. He carried Gwen to their chamber and cleaned her again. He could hear her try to speak, but she was so weak. “Shh, don’t talk, love. Save your strength.”
He wrapped her in his arms, her face pressed to his chest. He heard her whisper and it all but killed him. He bit the inside of his cheek, holding her as she cried. He cried, too, his tears falling silently to the pillow.
He kept his hand pressed firmly over her heart, willing the steady, though weakened beat to continue. He listened to each of her breaths, his body clenching in fear when she gasped with her efforts. Her words kept repeating in his mind, words she thought may be her last. “No regrets. The happiest days of my life.”
They were but five weeks!
He remained motionless when his men entered his chamber, positioning themselves on the floor around his bed. They, too, felt shame and found comfort only now by guarding their mistress with their lives. He knew without looking that Gavin stood sentinel at the door. “Take the other side, Gavin,” Greylen commanded quietly.
Lady Madelyn came in throughout the night, giving Gwen more of the elixir as he and Gavin held her head. He could see her sorrow increase each time she stepped over the men as they lay awake on the floor. He knew ’twas a sight she would always remember—her son and his best friend taking comfort from each other as they held Gwen between them. And their men who sought comfort, too, guarding their mistress’s soul with the silent prayers that moved from their lips. He imagined she, too, prayed that night, with Anna, in the privacy of her chamber.
The morning hours passed in a blur. Gwen remembered waking in Greylen’s arms and felt the warmth of another behind her. “I’m gonna be sick.” She moaned.
“Fetch a basin, Gavin,” Greylen said as he sat her up.
“Just take me to the bathroom, Greylen—quick.” As Greylen carried her, she saw his men on the floor, and also that Gavin had been the warmth behind her in their bed. If she hadn’t felt so terrible, she would’ve told them what their presence meant to her.
Greylen held her hair back as she threw up, refusing to get his mother. “You’re my wife, Gwen, I’ll see to you.”
Dignity be damned, it was the sweetest care she’d ever received.
He tried repeatedly to take her back to bed, but she insisted on resting on the cool, stone floor. He sat beside her the entire time, rubbing her back and helping her each time her stomach turned. At some point she heard a knock on the door. “I’ve had Anna prepare a bath within. We’ll remain in your bedchamber.”
“Aye, Gavin,” her husband replied.
When her nausea passed, Greylen took her into the tub. He washed her body and then dressed her as she sat on his lap in the chair. He chose only her most favorite things. A simple band of material that he tied around her chest, a pair of underwear that he’d placed thick cloths in, and one of his shirts. He brushed her hair before tying it back, and finally, he secured his medallion behind her neck.
“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning against him.
“I’m sorry, Gwen.”
“It’s not your fault, Greylen.”
“Aye, ’tis.”
They stayed in the chair for quite some time. She dozed on and off as Greylen rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. Then he carried her back into their chamber. Pallets still remained on the floor, and Gavin sat on their bed, which had been straightened and turned down again. He drank from a cup and ate from a plate of foods that sat atop the table next to her letterbox. The rest of the men were gathered around the fire, eating food she was sure Anna brought up while she disgraced herself in front of her husband.
Gavin adjusted the towel beneath her as Greylen laid her down. Then he went back to the papers he studied, leaning against the pillows.
“My first sleepover with seven men and I can’t remember a thing,” she joked weakly. They all looked at her, cautious smiles mixed with anguish, and her eyes filled with tears.
Then she rested between the two men she loved more than anything in the world, and they acted like it was an everyday occurrence to sit in bed, looking through papers as she lay between them. When Lady Madelyn and Anna came in to check on her, Greylen helped her sit up while Gavin adjusted pillows. She had to drink more of that god-awful elixir, b
ut Anna handed her a mug when she finished. Gavin took it from her hand, smelling and drinking it before allowing her to have any. Anna closed one of her eyes, fixing him with an angry stare. But Gavin only shrugged.
“Well, how is it, Gavin?” Gwen asked with a smile.
“As sweet as you,” he answered, touching her nose with his finger.
“If you wish the comfort of my bed, you’ll not touch my wife again.”
“I held not only your wife last night, but your sorry hide as well, let’s not forget.”
“I’ve held your sorry hide as well, my friend—on more than one occasion. I almost regret not letting you freeze to death while I had the chance.”
“Good God, stop fighting,” Gwen said as she sipped the tea infusion. “Wow, that’s a great phrase, good God, good God, good God.” She mimicked her husband’s brogue.
Just then, Isabelle walked into the room as everyone stared affectionately at Gwen. “Good God, what’s happened?”
Gwen patted the bed beside her. “Come, Isabelle, were having a sleepover.”
Isabelle looked around the room; pallets still lay on the floor and it was obvious Gavin had slept in their bed. “Tell me, what is the meaning of this?”
Greylen started to tell her, but Gwen interrupted him. “A sleepover is a party you invite only your best friends to. And you play games, listen to music, and eat snacks all night long.”
Greylen and his men would have to take her words to heart, knowing she spoke them for their benefit.
“How come I wasn’t invited?” Isabelle asked.
“You must have been sleeping when it started. In fact, I don’t remember it either.”
“Well, that hardly seems fair, sister,” Isabelle said, placing her hands on her hips.
“You’re absolutely right, Isabelle. Greylen, I demand a redo.”
“Pardon?” He would have no idea what she spoke of.
“I said, I demand a redo. You’re not a very good listener, are you?” she teased.
“Explain a redo.”
“It’s simple, I want another sleepover minus the…well, you know.”
Greylen shook his head, his smile full of love for his wife. She knew—as well as he—that his men had no intentions of leaving. Their pallets lay on the floor, neatly made, and Gavin had obviously made camp on the other side of the bed. She would have her sleepover, whether she wished for it or not. “Anything, Gwendolyn. Anything you so desire.”
“Good answer,” she said, snuggling into the pillows and handing her cup to him. She called to Isabelle, who remained at the end of the bed. “Isabelle, fetch some parchment, the thickest you can find, and shears too. Then change back into your nightgown and come to bed.”
Isabelle climbed onto the bed and kissed Gwen’s cheek. She had tears in her eyes, for she obviously knew something terrible had occurred. “I love you, Gwen.”
“I love you too. Now do my bidding,” she teased, mimicking her husband’s brogue again.
Greylen sat next to Gwen, adjusting her so she lay in the crook of his arm. He kept whispering he loved her as he passed papers to Gavin, who shared their written words with the men by the fire. Taking their orders, the men began leaving in groups of two, then they’d return before another two would go. Yet he and Gavin made no attempt to leave. And they’d go nowhere, not until they were sure Gwen was, in fact, making a swift recovery, as the case seemed to be.
Isabelle returned with the items Gwen had requested. She sat on the bed between her and Gavin, listening as Gwen explained what she wanted her to do. “But, Gwendolyn, we have cards already.”
“I know, but those decks have fifty-six cards and I want these with fifty-two.”
Isabelle made three decks of cards as Gwen requested. Then his sister read while Gwen napped, sitting very close to Gavin. Close enough to brush her leg against his. Gavin seemed to pretend not to notice, but when she stopped, Greylen watched as Gavin’s leg brushed hers.
Gwen felt better by early evening and was allowed to use the garderobe by herself. Greylen still insisted on carrying her and waited just outside the door as his mother and Anna saw to her personal care.
They dined in their chamber that evening, and she had him “turn on some music.” She had what she called “an extensive collection” that she’d “downloaded over the years.” According to his wife, he and his men liked the “acoustical sounds and lyrics of alternative rock.”
Greylen sat on the bed, alone with his wife. He had her wrapped in his arms, his lips against her forehead as they listened to a song she’d played for him before. “’Tis the music I hear when I watch you in the courtyard,” he whispered, squeezing her as she nestled against him.
Later, Gwen taught everyone how to play her favorite card games. Greylen and his men were truly grateful for the new games. Within minutes, as was their want, they became fiercely competitive. “Gwendolyn, we’ve need of coin.”
“Okay, poker it is.” She laughed, patting the bed. “Come on, I’ll teach all of you this game. It’s what men gamble over most.”
They played for over an hour before Greylen insisted it was time for bed. He and Gavin took the outside, while she and Isabelle lay between them. Greylen wrapped Gwen in his arms, facing his sister, but Isabelle and Gavin lay still as statues. His wife fixed that. “Group hug, everyone,” she whispered. They laughed huddling together, and she and Isabelle were within four strong arms. “Much better.” Gwen sighed.
His sister chose that precise moment to giggle.
“What humors you, Bella?” Gavin whispered.
“I never thought to share a bed with you and them,” she whispered back.
Though Greylen was amused by Isabelle’s comment, he wanted Gwen to get the rest he knew she needed. “Go to sleep, Isabelle,” he whispered over Gwen’s head.
“Good night, Greylen.”
“Good night, Sprite.”
“Good night, Gwen.”
“Good night, Isabelle.”
“Good night, Gavin.”
“Good night, Bella.”
It was another week before Gwen was allowed out of bed. If it wasn’t Greylen staring her down, it was Gavin, and each remained impervious to her repeated insistence that she was better.
Lady Madelyn and Anna had assured her that the herbs she ingested had been used for centuries—their purpose when combined could prevent a pregnancy, or as in her case, stop one. Thankfully, they told her, it would have no impact on her becoming pregnant again. Gwen chose not to be bitter, and instead did her best to ease the guilt Greylen, Gavin, and their men carried.
They blamed themselves for what happened.
They never spoke of the poison that caused her miscarriage, or the fact they feared for her life. But she knew that Greylen and his men spent their days interrogating their soldiers and the inhabitants among the holding. Isabelle stayed with her during the day, leaving only when Greylen returned late at night. But she had plenty of visitors.
Greylen and his men took turns coming above stairs to make sure she was indeed improving. It was on these occasions that she’d try to get through to Greylen and Gavin, to assure them that she really was better, and staying in bed wasn’t helping.
They’d look at her with true concern, listen intently to every word she said, and even sit next to her on the bed. Then they’d pat her on the head and leave.
Her food and drink continued to be sampled, and the amounts they placed before her were ridiculous. “I can’t possibly eat this much,” Gwen said, shaking her head.
“You’ve lost so much weight, Gwen, please,” Greylen pleaded, filling a fork and bringing it to her mouth.
“I can feed myself, Greylen.”
“Very well,” he conceded. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Greylen, it’s been a week. I’m not bleeding, I’ve rested more t
han I have in my entire life, and I’ve been forced to eat like a pig.”
“My sweet pig you are,” he teased.
“Please, Greylen, I’m really better. I’m going crazy.”
“Do you promise you’ll be careful and let your guard know the minute you need help?” he asked.
“We’re back to my guard?”
“Need you ask?”
“I guess not,” she said. “Do you suspect anyone in particular?”
“Aye, we’ve narrowed it to two, both have ties to MacFale.”
“What will you do?” she asked.
“When I’m certain who’s to blame, kill him.”
“Kill him?”
“Aye.”
“Can you do that?”
“The man came to me under false pretense, Gwen. He killed our babe. I feared you would die as well.”
“You really mean to kill him?”
“Good God, Gwendolyn—AYE!”
“I just…I never really thought about what you do or that it’s you who sees it through.”
“’Tis who I am, Gwen. ’Tis what I do. I’ve protected our home, our land, my entire life.”
“Just be careful, Greylen. Whatever you do, please be careful.”
If only she’d listened to her own worries, if only she had been more careful. She never would have found herself in the situation she was now in. She’d never meant to cause her husband the anger and helplessness she knew that he must have felt. She’d acted only on instinct.
She’d been waiting for Greylen to return on the keep steps, having been doing so for the past few nights. And she always had Isabelle and her guard with her. Tonight it was Ian. It was a beautiful night. The sky was full of stars and the moon cast a glow over the entire courtyard. Isabelle had just excused herself to get her a shawl, not that she’d asked for it, but Gwen finally stopped arguing and waved Isabelle away.