Knight's Legacy

by Trenae Sumter

  “A Mackay that means to help?” The woman spoke in outraged disbelief.

  “Aye, and if it be my decree, ye shall bend to it!” The Laird could be formidable, for when his eyes turned stormy and he pinned the midwife with his glare, she relented.

  “Be you a healer, lady?” she asked. Cat knew if she was thought incompetent she would not be allowed inside the chamber, so she answered the midwife affirmatively.

  “Aye, for many a birthing I’ve seen.” Cat did not go on to explain that all the births were foals. Robert Maitland sat down behind his wife to prop her shoulders upon his chest. The young woman had long, chestnut-colored hair, dark eyes, and was obviously in a great deal of pain. Urgently, she grasped her husband’s hand as he stroked her gently, kissing her hair.

  “Robert, the priest … he is coming?”

  “Aye, lass, Fergus and the others will fetch him. I’ve brought this one, she means to help ye.”

  The midwife turned to Cat, gesturing over to the side of the room, and Cat followed her a few steps from the bed. The older woman spoke in low tones, her compelling words meant only for Cat’s ears.

  “I fear that the helping ye will do, lady, will be with a burying. The babe is being slowly strangled in the womb. Helen has labored for many hours now, and I fear to lose them both. What say you to give the father false hope?”

  “I did not. I only meant to help if I could. What do you mean the baby’s being strangled?”

  “The cord of life be wrapped about the child’s neck.”

  “You could tell? You could reach it?”

  “Aye, yet I couldnae move it. It pains her so, she screams and pushes me away.”

  “Did you try when the pains were not at their worst? She does not appear to have the urge to push yet.”

  “Nay, ’Tis true, but it is coming soon, and when she does, that child will die.”

  Cat glanced down at the woman’s hands. She was very tall and her hands were large. “Let me scrub my hands and get clean. Perhaps I can try to reach it. My hands are smaller.”

  “If it will help Helen, I will do anything. Yet, it be not wise to give the father a hope when there be none.”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” Cat said.

  As the afternoon wore on, Cat was to bless every moment that she had spent with her father assisting with the foaling mares. Between one of the pains, the midwife brought Cat’s hand to the spot where she could feel the baby’s head. Pushing her fingers up inside, she felt the cord around the baby’s neck, but could not maneuver to free the child, for too tightly was it wedged in the birth canal.

  “Can we turn her over to a different position? Perhaps then we can reach it,” Cat said.

  “We can seek to try, for the child cannae be born this way and live,” said the midwife.

  The young mother was at once seized with the urge to push and became frantic, crying out in pain.

  “Laird, help us! Turn her over! Support her,” the old woman ordered.

  Both Cat and the midwife carefully helped the lady turn to her right side, and her husband reached out to encircle her in his arms. He put his large arm under her chest as she gripped the bedding.

  They turned Helen, and Cat inserted her hand as gently as possible into the birth canal. She winced when the young woman screamed in pain, but she had no choice but to force her fingers between the baby’s neck and the cord. Shifting position had granted her a bit of room to maneuver, and she slowly worked it from the grip around the child’s neck. Finally, she pulled the cord down through the birth canal. The Laird did his best to comfort his wife, supporting her, holding her, and speaking to her tenderly through it all.

  “It will be soon, love, it will be soon.”

  The midwife crowed in delight when she saw that Cat had indeed pulled the cord from of the woman’s body. Cat was concerned about the bleeding and said so to the midwife.

  “Nay, ’Tis not much blood,” she replied.

  They had little time to speak after that, for the birth progressed very rapidly. Robert helped his lady once again turn over, and she pushed in earnest. The midwife snapped orders to Cat, and she obeyed.

  Each of the young woman’s efforts to push the baby from her body was agonizing. The midwife put a hand on her belly and pressed with every contraction. The second time she pushed, the baby’s head emerged, and Cat watched with amazement as the midwife pushed the liquid away from the baby’s nose and moved the little babe’s shoulder.

  The pains came close together, and the young mother was weak, yet could not help screaming when they ripped through her body. Robert sat behind his wife and slipped his hands under her knees, his arms supporting her as would a birthing chair. Helen was at the edge of the bed, and the midwife kept her hand down below the baby’s head.

  “Lean down here. Get on your knees; if the shoulders push through on the next pain, the child could fall to the floor!”

  Cat dropped to her knees as the next contraction gripp ed Helen. She pushed with all her might, and the baby slipped from her body. The tiny, slippery baby boy ended up in Cat’s lap, still attached to his mother by the umbilical cord, and Cat’s eyes welled with tears as she was overcome with emotion. Handing Cat a soft cloth, the midwife instructed her to push the membrane and the liquid from the baby’s mouth.

  Cat cleaned the baby while the midwife took a knife and cut the cord. Tying two knots in each end, she pressed on the young mother’s stomach again. Robert let out a shout of joy and pulled Helen back into his arms where she collapsed, weeping.

  “It’s over, my love, it’s over.” The man kissed her again and again, overcome with joy. He had feared losing his wife and child, but the dire outcome had not prevailed.

  Cat hummed to the baby, wrapping him tightly, stroking him. She gazed on the couple and was struck by the love between them, for the Laird wiped away a tear and continued to hold his wife to his chest. At one point he closed his eyes and interlocked his fingers inside hers to make a fist. Cat suspected that he was saying a prayer when he rested his cheek next to his wife’s. At that moment she was very grateful she had come to the Maitland holding; she knew she was in the presence of love.

  Roderic had been in a temper from the moment he had awakened to find his wife gone, then learned Kenneth was missing as well. His wife was turning out to be an unusual amount of trouble.

  Half his army riding with him, Roderic came upon the clansmen with Kenneth, but was far from consoled. They needed a priest for Robert Maitland’s wife, who lay dying he was informed. Cat had offered to help in the meantime.

  Gavin, astride his mount, spoke quietly to Roderic.

  “Your wife is either an angel of mercy, or she has more courage than sense. She’s walked head on into another clan’s territory, and may have started a war.”

  Roderic sent for the priest without answering Gavin. They rode hard and fast in pursuit, the two Maitland warriors in the lead. Almost two hours behind Brianna and the Laird, it was late in the afternoon when they arrived.

  They were surrounded at once. Maitland had prepared for them, and his warriors stood ready to fight as Roderic rode in alone with Gavin. He had left the others behind, hoping to bring Brianna home without bloodshed.

  The man met him on the steps of his home, a structure of gray stone.

  “You have my wife, Maitland,” Roderic said, his voice ringing with command.

  “Aye, I do, Montwain, but it was by her own free will and mercy she came! I’ll not need the priest. My wife is alive. She is alive and well, as is my son! Would you like to meet my son, Montwain?”

  Roderic was shocked at the question. The man did not appear hostile in his manner, although the men of his clan stood fully armed for battle.

  “We Scots hate the English, no matter how verra dear ye be to our King. We dinnae want ye on our land! I see the question in your eyes. To answer it, I wish no war. Lady Montwain has made this a happy day for me. I’ll not be buryin’ my Helen, nor the boy. Your wife is
a fine midwife. It be hard to trust anyone a part of Mackay, yet she was not afraid to do her best. She is with Helen now. Come.”

  Roderic left Gavin to wait outside and followed the Laird into the great hall. Cat came walking down the steps holding the bairn. The weak little mews from the babe soon became a strong wail.

  Cat looked up at Roderic and smiled sweetly as she handed the boy to his father.

  His wife was not at all concerned with his anger. She sighed as if she had just finished a good meal.

  “Helen and I said our farewells,” Cat said to Maitland. “She is sleeping soundly now, and Rachel is with her. Helen is very weak, but she should be well and sound in a few days. Rachel is a fine healer, but she needed another pair of hands.”

  “ ’Tis true. It took both of them to bring this lad into the world,” Maitland said as he stared down at his son.

  “Roderic. Isn’t he a handsome bairn?” she said.

  “Yes, indeed. He is a fine son, Maitland. I’ll take my wife home now.”

  “There will be peace between us, Montwain. Your wife’s act of kindness will not be forgotten. Think ye to need my aid, ye ask, and it will be granted. Your wife has courage.”

  The bairn stopped its crying when his father touched him tenderly.

  “One that can draw a sword of challenge to me would have need of it,” he said. The Laird was smiling at Brianna, a teasing glint in his eye.

  Roderic was incensed by this bit of information, and stepped forward to grip his wife’s elbow none too gently.

  “Go, now, Brianna. Get on your horse. We leave immediately.”

  Roderic thought it absurd that she should look so affronted. He was the one who had a right to his anger. Her pretty face flushed with humiliation while she said her farewells to Maitland, and abruptly stomped out of the great hall.

  “She is a proud, strong woman. Comely, too. Many of my warriors would have kept her, and damn the war it started with an Englishmon. But debt for my own overshadowed my desire to appease my men. If ye give her a lickin’ for the worry ye suffered, be sure to soothe her pride after. Mayhap she lacks caution, but dinnae forget the kind heart that moved her to such folly,” Maitland said.

  Roderic would never have believed that after one day of wedded bliss, he would be taking advice about how to beat his wife and actually relish the prospect.

  He walked outside to the horses, where Brianna, ignoring Gavin’s offer of assistance, hurled herself onto the back of her mount with the speed and grace of an arrow. She sat astride the animal trembling with indignation, eyes flashing green fire.

  Roderic got on his mount and came before her. Reaching out with his dagger, he cut the sword from her belt and tossed it to Gavin.

  “Was it absolutely necessary to humiliate me in that manner?”

  She made her demand in a cold, hard voice. Roderic leaned toward her and gripped her wrist.

  “Brianna … do … not … speak. I am very close to beating you right now, and I am sure if it is to be done, you would want it done when we are alone. You could have started a war here today. Many men could have died because of your actions. You are my wife, and you will obey me. Be silent!”

  “Well, excuse me, your worship!”

  She said the word “excuse” as if it had three syllables. He was in no mood for her jests.

  “Enough! You endangered your own life by running away! You also endangered that of the boy …”

  “Kenneth followed me! I tried to make him go home before we came upon the Maitlands,” she said urgently.

  “It matters not! I did not permit you to leave the castle! Even if your motive was one of mercy, it can not be excused. You left with a strange man to cross another clan’s borders! That alone can start a war! Knowing it, you took no heed of the consequences and drew your sword in a challenge to a Laird, who could have hacked you to pieces! For that and more I will punish you, and you will accept it as your due!” His tone was cold and furious.

  She stared him down and one brow quirked haughtily. Sarcasm dripped from her like venom.

  “Sir Montwain, I have only one response to your arrogant assumption.” She paused before she spoke again angrily. “Accept it as my due?”

  Cat pushed his hand away. “As they say in England … like bloody hell!”

  Chapter Seven

  For no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth peaceable fruit.

  ~Hebrews 12:11

  Gavin urged his mount closer to Roderic’s. “Your temper has cooled?”

  Roderic glanced briefly behind him. His wife had gone to ride with the rest of his warriors, placing ten riders between them.

  “Nay, I still wrestle with the desire to beat her before you all!”

  Gavin chuckled. “Ah, once I kenned how a lass could twist a mon’s purpose and duty. Yea, though, a wife? ’Tis true of a bride hundredfold. Still, mayhap there is good to come of what happened today.”

  “You seek to defend her?”

  “Nay. But, if Maitland is now an ally ’Tis a boon that should be heeded as you do your duty.” Gavin grinned without remorse.

  “My wrath amuses you?”

  Gavin laughed. “Aye, to see ye at last befuddled by a woman, I be vastly amused.”

  Roderic rode back to his wife. Grabbing the reins of her horse, he kicked his own to a canter , and returned to the front of the group. Turning to Gavin, he raised his voice.

  “I wish for some time alone with my wife. We will stay parallel with you.”

  “Aye,” Gavin said.

  When they were a comfortable distance from his army, he turned to Cat. “Is being my wife so abhorrent that you would rather be raped or dead?” he demanded.

  The look of shock and disbelief on her face could not have been feigned.

  “No! Why would you ask that?”

  “To run away as you did would certainly lead to your capture by a rival clan. Robert Maitland could have kept you hostage if the circumstances had not won his loyalty, and he could have held you for ransom. You must know this!”

  Momentarily confused, she glanced away. “I don’t. I had no idea.”

  There was a puzzled frown on his face. Could she truly be unaware of the danger?

  “How can this be, Brianna? Every young woman in the Highlands is taught of such danger from the cradle. You must understand the hatred for your father is so great many would kill you to avenge those they have mourned.”

  “I have been allowed more freedom. I can’t tell you why I ran away; you wouldn’t believe me. But I wasn’t aware of the danger, and I certainly wouldn’t have gone had I known it would bring you trouble.”

  “The Mackay gave you so few rules that he cared not if you put yourself in danger?” His tone was laced with disbelief.

  She didn’t answer, but merely looked away and shrugged. “You saved my life. I suppose I should learn to listen to you.”

  He studied her expression, and she appeared truly repentant, even vexed with herself.

  “Aye, and so you shall. You will obey me, Brianna. For if you do not, you endanger not only yourself, but my army as well. Gavin has told me to consider well the alliance you have created with Maitland. But, I will have your vow to never leave the keep without my permission.”

  Her manner was somewhat calmer as she took a deep breath and sighed. “All right already. Fine. I will be the little woman of the manor.”

  “Jest with me not, lady. We must return to the others, but we will discuss this again when we arrive at the keep.”

  They rode back to his men, Roderic facing a dilemma of his own making. Having told his wife earnestly that he would never hurt her, he had made a promise he would be unable to keep. Though he was disgusted by the very thought he had no choice, for he read well the contempt his warriors directed at her. She had not only forced them to postpone the journey to meet with the King, she had put them all in danger.

  The Scots who made up his army were
good and loyal men, and they believed in harsh justice. He had fought beside them, but their loyalty was hard won and a burdensome struggle to maintain. In their eyes he was still born an Englishman, and they had buried many kin killed by the English.

  Roderic thought back to the circumstances that placed him, a boy of ten years, in Alexander’s care, and remembering the old warrior who found him when his family was killed by the Saxons. He could smell the smoke of his home burning, hear the sounds of his mother and sisters screaming as they died. The old one had saved him, hiding Roderic away, stealing a horse. Then they had traveled for three days without stopping for food or drink. Roderic took little notice, for his heart closed up inside his body. Having no tears, he had faced the worst he could suffer, losing all who had meant love, warmth, and safety, and he had not even the will to struggle.

  He became hungry on the fourth day and ate the food offered by the old man. Losing track of how long they traveled, Roderic did as he was told and walked where he was led. At last, the old one came upon a band of Scottish warriors, Alexander among them, and he urged Roderic to go to them.

  Alexander looked after him, and in time he grew stronger. He had been trained and loved by the man, but never once did Alexander allow his hand to become slack and permissive. If he disobeyed, Roderic was beaten for his own good and well-being.

  Catherine had endangered them all by her actions, and he would be expected to correct the matter. His men’s loyalty was unquestioned, but never far from Roderic’s mind was the fact that he was not born to Scotland. The command of this army was a responsibility he held sacred, and he did not risk the lives of his men for foolishness, but for right and truth as Alexander demanded of them all.

  His wife had a compassionate woman’s heart, but she did wrong putting the safety of one woman and her child above that of so many others. A perplexing mixture of child and woman, she had no fear, as the Maitland Laird had said. It seemed true as she had spit at Roderic like an angry cat when she should have been begging his forgiveness. She had then plead ignorance of her danger. It was impossible. He could believe such of the simple minded boy, Kenneth, but not of her.