Cortez went out back to take a look at it and, deeming that it was better than sleeping in the common room, commandeered it for the rest of his knights. The room had three small beds plus a brazier for warmth. It was good enough for the knights, and when Cortez went back into the tavern, he told Merlin about it, who in turn ran across the street to the livery to find Peter. The two of them settled down into the small stable room as Cortez returned to Diamantha.
“Where did you go?” she asked as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. “You were gone so long.”
He put his finger to his lips in a silencing gesture and took her over to the hearth, where the little animals were awake in their cage and scratching to get out. Cortez sat Diamantha down in a chair, the only one in the room, and sat himself down on the floor next to the animal cage.
Opening the cage door, he grinned wearily as the puppy ran out, jumping on his legs, and the kittens ran out after the puppy. Soon, he had two cats and a dog crawling around on his legs as the rabbit and fox kit, being a bit more cautious, sniffed around his breeches. It brought him a distinct sense of joy to watch them play because they reminded him so much of Sophie. He felt oddly comforted by them.
“I gave my mail over to Peter to clean it,” he told her quietly. “I was also tending to some business with MacInnis, but I am finished for now. Have you eaten at all today, sweetheart? You look so very tired.”
Diamantha was smiling faintly, watching the baby animals crawl over his big legs. “I am tired,” she admitted. “As I said, this is the first time Sophie has slept all day. She has been so miserable that I have spent all of my time comforting her. I hate to see my child so ill. It simply breaks my heart.”
Cortez put a big hand up and rested it on her knee comfortingly. “She is sleeping now, so that must be a good sign,” he said. “At least she is comfortable enough to sleep.”
“She is exhausted,” Diamantha said, rubbing wearily at her temples. Then, she focused on Cortez. “Will you tell me what happened today? I assume that you did not find Robert.”
He looked up at her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you would have told me right away.”
He shrugged, looking down to pet one of the kittens who was trying to climb up his tunic. “True enough,” he said. “Nay, we did not find him. But I found the place where I last saw him, so that is significant. We have started digging holes around that area to locate him.”
Diamantha fell silent, pondering the information. “And you found nothing?”
Cortez shook his head, petting the puppy as it tried to chew on his fingers. “We found a few items but they did not belong to him,” he said. “A dirk, four broadswords, and pieces of leather that may have belonged to shoes. We will go back tomorrow and continue our search. He must be there, somewhere.”
Diamantha eyed him. He didn’t sound convinced. He sounded discouraged. She slithered off the chair and sat on the floor beside him, picking up the little bunny and cuddling it.
“You said that it was raining very badly during the battle,” she said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that the rain might have washed him away? Would there have been anywhere for him to go?”
He knew she was grasping at straws and he took her hand, gently pulling her over onto his lap. Putting the rabbit down, Diamantha put her arms around his neck, giving in to the man’s warmth and strength. Cortez wrapped her up in his muscular arms, holding her close and taking comfort in her soft body against his. It was the most satisfying feeling he’d ever known. Tenderly, he kissed her head.
“If he is there, I will find him,” he assured her confidently. “Meanwhile, I do not want you to fret. I want you to keep your strength up. This journey has been very taxing for all of us.”
Diamantha laid her head on his shoulder, thinking on their quest. “It seems like we left Corfe Castle a lifetime ago,” she said, reflecting. “All of it… George, the arguments between you and me, the silver collar you gave me… everything seems like it happened so long ago.”
Cortez was glad she saw it that way. He’d wondered if she ever would. “We have been gone twenty-six days,” he said. “This is the second journey I have made to Scotland this year.”
Diamantha lifted her head and looked at him. “You must be very weary.”
He met her gaze. She was so close to him that he leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “I am,” he said. “But this was a necessary quest. I am glad we came.”
Diamantha cocked her head. “You are?”
He grinned. “Of course I am,” he said. “What was it I told you? That this quest has brought us closer together than anything else ever could have? It’s true, you know.”
She smiled because he was. “Are you telling me that you are glad I came?”
“Strangely enough, I am.”
Diamantha giggled softly and he kissed her again, more amorously this time. But the puppy barked, the kittens scratched, and the rabbit scampered off underneath the bed, so Diamantha climbed off his lap to corral the rabbit before it escaped or got hurt. Just as she got down on her knees to hunt under the bed, Sophie began to cry softly on her bed.
Cortez got up, bending over the girl as she wept pitifully. Diamantha forgot about the rabbit and went to her child just as Cortez reached down and carefully picked her up.
“Mama,” Sophie sobbed. “I want my poppet!”
Diamantha dug around in the messy bed, pulling forth Rosie and giving her to Sophie. The little girl snuggled with her poppet, nestled in Cortez’s big arms. As he rocked her gently, Diamantha put a hand to her daughter’s head, feeling for a fever. She seemed cool enough.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” she asked.
Sophie wasn’t comfortable in the least. “My belly hurts,” she whined. “Mama, I’m thirsty.”
There was watered ale on the little table next to the hearth and Diamantha poured some into a cup. Cortez continued to hold the little girl as Diamantha held the cup so she could sip down the ale. Sophie slurped gingerly, smacking her lips because it was sweet. Then she saw something on the table that interested her, small little oatcakes that Goodwife MacInnis had made.
Diamantha took one and broke it into tiny bites, feeding it to Sophie as a mother bird would feed her chick. Sophie ate about a quarter of a cake, and all seemed fine until about half hour later when she began to cry again.
Cortez still had Sophie in his arms because she had dozed off to sleep and he didn’t want to risk waking her by putting her onto the bed. But she awoke groaning because her belly was cramping and within a few minutes, she was crying loudly in pain. Her little belly was so very tight, cramping viciously because of the food she had eaten, but when Cortez tried to put her back onto the bed, thinking she would be more comfortable, Sophie clung to him and wouldn’t let go.
As Diamantha stood by and watched, torn with exhaustion and worry, Cortez paced around their small room with Sophie in his arms, singing softly to her while she groaned in pain.
“A young man came to Tilly Nodden,
His heart so full and pure.
Upon the step of Tilly Nodden,
His wants would find no cure.
Aye! Tilly, Tilly, my goddess near,
Can ye spare me a glance from those eyes?
My Tilly, sweet Tilly, be my lover so dear,
I’m a-wantin’ a slap of those thighs!”
He sang the song that had made her laugh before, hoping it would make her laugh again, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the pain in her gut. After singing it twice, it was clear that Sophie wasn’t finding comfort in it. When Cortez glanced up at Diamantha, sitting on the bed and watching him pace, he noticed the warmth in her eyes.
“Is that the only song you know?” she asked lightly.
He fought off a grin, rocking Sophie gently. “I know a few more, but the language is worse,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Not for the ears of the baby.”
She shook her head reproachful
ly, though she wasn’t serious. “Do you not know any children’s songs?” she asked. “Songs that are not sung in a tavern common room and speak of women’s body parts?”
He appeared rather embarrassed. “In truth, I do not.”
Diamantha laughed in spite of her fears for her daughter. But the laughter faded quickly. “Do you want to give her to me?” she asked, her eyes on her child. “You must be growing tired.”
He looked at her as if she was daft. “Nonsense, woman,” he whispered. “I am a man. Men do not get tired.”
She cocked a doubtful eyebrow. “They don’t?”
“Nay, we don’t,” he said, eyeing her. “But I can see that you are very tired. Try and sleep now. I will take care of Sophie while you do.”
Diamantha shook her head. Her sad eyes never left her daughter. “I cannot sleep,” she said. “Not when my child is so ill.”
Cortez understood her point but he was firm. “You will not be any good to Sophie if you allow yourself to become ill,” he said. “Just sleep for a little while. I will take good care of Sophie.”
Diamantha’s eyes welled up but she fought it. He was right, she was exhausted. Lying back on the bed, the one she shared with Cortez, she watched the man as he paced the floor with Sophie, singing softly to her with words she could not hear until he drew closer. Then, she caught a snippet of the song:
“There once was an old whore named Rose,
with a wart on the end of her nose….”
Diamantha couldn’t help but laugh to herself. They were naughty words but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that Sophie, although still miserable, seemed to be calming, naughty lyrics and all.
Watching Cortez with her daughter was one of the sweetest things Diamantha had ever experienced. It was a sincere man indeed who would love a woman so much that he would treat her child as his own. It was clear how much he adored Sophie. On that tender thought, Diamantha’s eyes closed and drifted off into a weary, fitful sleep.
Cortez heard the soft snoring, looking over to see that Diamantha had finally fallen asleep. He was relieved. The woman was absolutely exhausted and the emotional strain of a sick child and the physical strain of a long journey were taking their toll. As worried as he was about Sophie, he was equally worried about Diamantha. Should something happen to her, he didn’t think he could take it. In fact, he knew he couldn’t. He had survived Helene’s death but he knew with deadly certainty that he would not survive Diamantha’s. The woman had become a part of the very fabric of his being, as if he couldn’t draw breath without her. Thinking of her ill was terrifying.
In his arms, Sophie moaned and he looked down at the child. She was so exhausted that her eyes were only half-open, giving her a rather corpse-like appearance. She was so very pale, too.
As Cortez gazed down at her, he felt as if some unseen dagger were stabbing him in the stomach. He had seen that countenance once before, on the face of Sophie’s father as he sat dying against the split oak tree. It was a horrifying realization that hit Cortez all at once, and tears popped to his eyes. He couldn’t take this; nay, not again! God certainly wouldn’t be so cruel. With tears spilling over and running down his cheeks, he held the little girl in his arms and gazed from the small window cut high into the wall of the room. He could see the storm clouds outside, illuminated by a full moon. He could see God looking back at him.
“Not her,” he hissed, praying to a God who had ignored him more often than he had listened. “You’ll not take her. I held this child’s father in my arms as he died and now history is repeating itself. How much more do you expect me to take? Are you testing me? I held Helene as she breathed her last and I held my daughter after she was already dead, and now this? Why are you doing this to me? For once in my life, listen to my prayers and save something that I adore. Save this child. Her mother could not suffer her loss and neither could I. You are supposed to be a merciful God but you have never been merciful to me. For once, listen to me, O God. For once, spare this child’s life and restore her. You already have my daughter at your side. Leave this one for me.”
He was weeping by the time he was finished, so heartbroken over things in life he’d had no control over, things that had devastated him emotionally. Wiping at his eyes, he struggled with his composure and resumed singing the only songs he knew, his voice cracking under the strain. It had been such a difficult day for him and, much like Diamantha, he was weary both physically and spiritually. But he kept walking the floor with the child, trying to comfort her, and he continued the pacing long into the night.
Morning saw a weakening child and a distraught mother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The rain had been merciless for two more days of digging, slogging through swamps of mud that were reminiscent of the mud puddles back in July. There was so much muck that it was as if the entire world was full of it.
It was cold, too, and as Cortez and his men dug more holes and swept away more mud, his hands were frozen most of the time. Two days of heavy rains and two days of digging had not turned up anything belonging to, or about the person of, Robert Edlington, and Cortez had finally had enough. On noon of the third day since their arrival at Falkirk, Cortez called a halt to the search and sent his men back to the tavern. Weary, and grateful, they retreated to warm their bones and get out of the rain.
But for Cortez, his return to the tavern was not one of warmth and pleasure. It was one of sorrow. Sophie was growing steadily worse and the physic had suggested last rites for the child, but Diamantha had violently disagreed. In fact, Cortez actually had to pull her off of the physic when the suggestion was made. She had screamed at the man and told him never to come back, but Cortez had spoken to the physic in private and assured the man he was needed, now more than ever.
After things had quieted down, Diamantha sat on the bed with Sophie in her arms. The woman looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. There were dark circles beneath her lovely eyes and her luscious hair was unbrushed and messy. She simply sat on the bed, humming softly to her child and rocking her gently. She didn’t stop humming when Cortez returned to the room from having escorted the physic out and she didn’t look up. She was staring off into space. Only when Cortez put himself in front of her line of sight did she notice him. Her gaze was hollow.
“Did you find Robert?” she asked dully.
She hadn’t asked the question when he’d first returned, as she had been more concerned with the physic at that point. Now, her focus was shifting, and Cortez shook his head sadly.
“Nay, love,” he replied. “The weather is too fierce. We will return tomorrow and look again, but my men needed to dry out and warm up. ’Tis starting to grow cold.”
Diamantha’s gaze lingered on him for a few moments before looking away again. She was seemingly dazed, her heart and soul and mind shattered by the condition of her child. Cortez watched her for a few moments, feeling so desperately sad, before turning to remove his wet tunic. The fire in the small hearth was blazing brightly, making the room very warm. In the corner near the hearth, he noticed that the animal cage was open and the puppy and both kittens were sleeping in a pile outside of the cage. He didn’t see the rabbit or the fox but assumed they were somewhere, sleeping under the bed. That seemed to be their favorite place.
“Has Sophie eaten anything today?” he asked, peeling off his wet tunic.
It was a few moments before Diamantha answered. “She managed a bit of porridge this morning,” she said. “But she has been sleeping all day.”
Cortez glanced over at the pair as he bent and started to remove his heavy mail coat. “And you?” he asked. “Have you eaten?”
Again, there was a long pause before she spoke. When she finally did, it was not to answer his question. “I have been thinking, Cortez,” she said. “I have been thinking that I want to bury Sophie with Robert, so it is imperative that you find him. You must try harder.”
He jerked his head around, looking at her with some dismay. “Bury h
er?” he repeated. “She is not dead, nor will she die. I will not hear that out of your mouth again, do you hear me?”
Diamantha nodded. Then, she burst into tears and hung her head. Cortez ripped the mail coat off and went to her, wet and all, and threw his arms around her. He buried his face in the side of her messy head, trying desperately to comfort her.
“I am sorry,” he whispered fiercely. “I did not mean to snap. I am so sorry, sweetheart. Forgive me.”
Diamantha was wracked with sobs. “She will not awaken and she will not talk to me,” she wept. “If she passes, I want her to be buried with her father. Please? He would want that. He would want her with him.”
Cortez was nodding eagerly, tears stinging his eyes as he kissed her repeatedly. “Of course, my love, anything you want,” he said, struggling not to weep along with her. “I will try harder to find Robert, I swear it.”
Diamantha continued to weep, clutching Sophie against her breast. Cortez sat next to her, his arms wrapped around them both, losing the fight against tears. He let them come. The situation was so heartbreaking in so many ways, and the pain was overwhelming them both.
For quite some time, he sat with Diamantha and Sophie, cursing God for not listening to his prayers. He hated God, he had decided, because God surely hated him. There was no point in praying when God dismissed his pleas. As he sat there wondering what he could do to demonstrated his hatred towards God, perhaps by burning a church or two, Sophie suddenly opened her eyes.
“Mama?” she asked weakly.
Startled, Diamantha gazed down into the face of her baby. “I am here, sweetheart,” she murmured. “You slept a long time.”
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