“What say you?” Devon shouted.
“...will he ever stop?” Rory tried again, wishing he could raise his hands to cover over his ears. Most certainly the lad did not bellow so loudly whilst in Constantine’s care.
“Eh?” Devon asked again.
“Will he ever...stop,” Rory bellowed into the now quiet hall as the babe paused for a breath.
The babe, startled into silence, gazed up at his father. Rory gazed back a bit worriedly then glanced around hoping no one assumed he was threatening his own child.
“Worry not my brother. I fear your son ’tis a tad loud. If any heard you yell they would be cheering you on and baking bread for you,” Devon said and chuckled.
“I do not wish for him to fear me,” Rory said with concern as he noted the child still gazed at him.
“Fear you? Damnation Rory, your son frightens me! Seasoned knights run for cover in all different directions when he lets loose.”
“’Tis a remarkable battle cry is it not?” Rory said with pride and cuddled his young son closely.
“Aye, young Edward seems to poses his mother’s vocal skills,” Devon replied then chuckled.
He also cuddled Gregory closer yet yelped inadvertently when the babe connected a small flailing fist soundly with his nose. Damnation. The babe did not swat at his mother thus.
Rory laughed delightedly. “It would seem young Gregory has been gifted with his mother’s prowess.”
Rory had been utterly amazed at Juliette. Whilst going into labor, she knocked down two of his knights that only wished to aid her. With great surprise, her small fist had connected with a man’s nose. Rory never realized a pregnant woman could kick so hard. She only calmed when Devon quieted her and lifted her to their chamber. Even Mary had been too distressed to approach her. With Constantine’s aid and Mary’s advice the babe was soon delivered and passed off into Devon’s waiting arms where he was at once pummeled soundly by an angry flailing small red fist. Juliette refused to allow Devon to leave the room whilst giving birth and had gripped his hand soundly until it pained him.
Rory had also refused to be shooed away as Constantine howled for him, whilst she delivered days ago. Rory understood his brother’s desire to remain close to his beloved in her time of need. Since none wanted to venture too closely to Juliette, Rory had stayed to give aid, though laughed soundly when it appeared ’twas Devon who required the aid while nursing a sore nose and shaking out a pained hand.
“What an unstoppable pair our young sons will make,” Rory said grinning with unveiled pride. Young Edward had drifted off into sleep finally. Rory noted the hounds cautiously once more approaching.
“Aye,” Devon agreed, as his own son’s arms rested quietly in slumber.
“Warriors will cower in fear at their approach. None will ever best the battle cry and the berserker,” Rory said with conviction. He then headed off to his chamber hoping Constantine would be now rested. Though he wished to wait awhile for another child he would endeavor to practice whilst keeping his skills honed. He noted with amusement Devon felt the same way.
THE END
About the Author
I love to write about everything and can't wait for an idea that grips me and sends me to a new place. Between worlds keeps me busy, that and chasing after my children and grandchildren. Plus one ornery 116 pound mastiff who thinks he's a lap dog. Welcome into my adventures, and hang on!
http://clscholey.com
https://www.facebook.com/C-L-Scholey-1668292126786820/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel
[email protected]
https://twitter.com/clscholey
Battle Cry and The Berserker Page 21