“I am breathing,” Sarah growled as she panted for breath. “But it’s so damn hot in here. Open the window. I need some air.”
Peter stepped from the bedside to push back the oiled skins that kept out the chill from their chamber. “Nay too much,” Conall cautioned.
“All the way,” Sarah demanded, with her head turning to rest her cheek against his heart. Cool air swept over them and he heard her sigh of relief. “That’s better.”
“Only for now,” Brenda muttered. “When the bairn comes, it will be sealed.”
“How much longer?” The bored voice had Conall sneering at the visage seated in his chair before the fire. I should kill him for intruding where he is nay welcome.
“Leave,” Sarah snarled.
Harsh laughter met her demands. “I will see the firstborn arrive.”
Never would Conall have thought he could hate the Bruce with such passion. His presence in the chamber only fueled Sarah’s anxiety and made him wish he had never served such a foul man. “You have already made certain we hide no bairn to switch. Be gone and leave us in peace.”
Robert sipped from the goblet in his hands. “I stay.”
Conall turned away from the source of their woes and focused on his wife, who again clenched his hands. Bella began to once again pace the floor, only stopping to snarl at Robert and then resume her steps. He had ceased asking the beast to quiet. Mayhap Bella will end our misery and rip out the man’s throat.
“The dog should be gone,” Brenda again muttered as she rubbed Sarah’s legs.
Sarah groaned and laughed. “She won’t leave. Not even Neil could get her to go.”
“Aye,” Conall approved. “She stands guard over our bairns and my wife.” He admired the beast’s loyalty and knew none would touch his love with her in the chamber.
“Hand me a cloth.” Brenda held out her hand to Lena, who delivered another rag dipped into cool water. Conall took it from her and ran it over Sarah’s neck.
The scene taking place had been repeated throughout the long afternoon. From the open window, bright sunlight had faded to gloaming with a deep blue replacing the brighter one. For hours Sarah had been in pain, and he could do naught to aid her. Never had he been so helpless.
He knew that Robert had sent a man out hours ago, likely to summon the men hiding on his lands. Yet locked within their chamber, Conall knew not if they had arrived or if they were too ill for travel. Am I the worst or best of men leaving such details to Evan’s care? I have poisoned men who I have fought beside and have also failed to completely eliminate those same men who would hurt my wife.
Sarah bucked against him and Brenda smiled down at her. “Aye, Sarah, push.” Her cries and groans filled the air and the midwife told him that his bairn could be seen.
Robert, Lena, and Peter gathered behind the midwife as her hands were held out to receive the life entering the world. He supported Sarah’s back with his body and craned his neck forward to witness the shock of dark hair that became the top of a head. Sarah screamed, and he gasped at the head becoming shoulders and then a belly.
“Sarah,” he whispered. “Our bairn, Sarah. You have done so well. I love you, Sarah. So much.” He babbled as Brenda took the child in her hands. In two heartbeats, a mewling cry filled the air and a tear fell down his cheek. Never have I witnessed such a miracle.
With panting breath, Sarah begged, “Tell me.”
Brenda held up their child and Conall knew he had never seen such beauty. He kissed Sarah’s hair and her forehead. “Our Rachel is here.”
Tears fell down her cheeks as her arms lifted to take the bairn. “She’s so tiny. Should she be so small?” Worry and love filled her voice and they both stared at Brenda.
“She is fine and hale, but the wee one of the pair. The next will be the larger.” Brenda’s assurance had his wife gasping.
“The larger one? I can’t do a bigger one. I’m done.” Her panting breath spoke of defeat, but he felt her strength as she inhaled and focused on their daughter.
“Aye, you can, Sarah. Together we will welcome the next bairn.” His whisper made her snarl.
“Great. I do all the work and you sit there.” Her voice mocked him, but he had been warned to expect foul words during the birth by several new fathers. She has spewed curses foul enough to make many a warrior blush.
“Hold your tongue,” Brenda scolded as she wiped Rachel’s face. “Many a man would hide in a cup while his wife delivers. Your Conall is with you, as his father was the night he entered this life.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered. “I’m so tired.”
“Shhh,” he soothed, certain that Robert’s presence within their chamber made the situation worse. If he worried about forces storming their gates, Sarah did as well. The only comfort is that I have nay heard any demand admittance through the bolted gates.
“Take your bairn,” Brenda said with a smile as she handed the tiny newborn to Sarah. “Hold her and welcome her.”
Sarah’s hands took the child and tears streamed down her cheeks. Conall held the arms that supported the new life wrapped in a soft blanket. The mewling ceased as soon as the bairn latched onto her mother’s breast. Her impossibly small hand rested on the exposed mound and covered several freckles, a sight that resonated within his soul.
“Our Rachel.” Never had he felt such love or pride. Conall knew he could watch the child nurse for hours. The smile on his wife’s face erased the fear childbirth had caused. He saw the love and devotion and felt his eyes gather with more moisture.
Movements happened at the foot of the bed and Brenda held out the Draig dagger. “The cord needs to be cut. Would you wish to perform the duty as your father did?”
Conall took the dagger by the hilt and then faltered as Rachel’s tiny body was exposed. Brenda chuckled. “The child will feel naught, I promise. But it needs to be done before the next arrives.”
With a deep inhale, he cut the cord and felt Sarah stiffen against him. Yet, while Brenda tied the knot on her belly, Rachel remained contented at her mother’s breast.
“Enough,” Robert interrupted. “Conall, you will come with me.” He walked to the chamber door, clearly expecting to be obeyed.
The peace and serenity filling his soul dissipated instantly. With arms wrapped around his wife and daughter, Conall glared at the man. “Nay. The Draig Laird remains with his wife to welcome the next bairn.”
The Bruce blew out a ragged breath. “Our agreement needs to be fulfilled.”
Shifting only enough to straighten his back, Conall tilted his head to Peter, who moved without verbal command. His would-be uncle lifted the sword of his ancestors from the corner and held out the weapon. Cold steel warmed his palm and he pointed the blade at man who stood as his enemy. “I never agreed. Be gone before I rise from the bed.”
Robert merely shrugged. “If you wish to behave such, I will treat you accordingly. Dinna forget that I am your king and that you have sworn to serve me. I will have obedience, even if ‘tis by force.” Without facing him, Robert left the chamber.
“Well done,” Peter praised as he removed the weapon from his hand that ached to slay. “For the record, the warriors have all been called to the hall. We outnumber his forces within the gates, which are currently closed. If riders were approaching, we would know.”
Conall sighed in relief and belatedly realized that Peter would have all within his control, such was his gift. Their conversation ceased as Sarah, who had only focused on their daughter, cried out.
“Lena, take the bairn,” Brenda commanded. The housekeeper cooed as she took the quieted bundle from Sarah. “The other comes.”
“I can’t,” Sarah groaned. But her weight lifted from his chest as she pushed forward to bring the next child into the world.
She had every right to be exhausted, having spent the whole of the day laboring to give life, but he only encouraged her. “Aye, you can.” His hand covered the tattoo on her upper arm. “Save the clan again
, Sarah. Give me two heirs, a feat untold in clan history.”
“Save the sweet talk,” she mumbled between clenched teeth. Her body stiffened to bear down while he held her up, supporting her as best he could. All the while he prayed their plans would be enough to keep her safe. His dark and light halves agreed, Sarah was his world, yet they would never win in an honest battle.
Chapter 44
The door closed on the laird’s chamber with a soft click. Conall nodded to the two warriors posted on watch, per Peter’s instruction. “None enter.”
“Aye, Laird,” they answered in unison. Their bodies stood in front of the chamber entrance with swords in hand. Both men stared at the bundle wrapped in the softest fabric he had ever touched and then wrapped in furs.
One of them offered, “We will watch over Lady Sarah. Congratulations.”
Conall stared down at the sleeping face of his first born, and then at the other cradled in Evan’s arms. He had always imagined that the birth of his child, or children, would fill him with such peace rather than an overwhelming surge of fire with fates undetermined.
Peter gave unnecessary commands to the men, but Conall knew none would pass.
He took measured steps to the stairs as he contemplated how many of his ancestors had done as he would and had presented his heirs to the clan. The stone walls and stairs had seen generations of Draig carried down them to be recognized. Yet none had ever been presented with such threats looming. He whispered to the sleeping Rachel, “Rest well, lass. Your da will see your place secured.” Even speaking of himself as a father caused his heart to swell.
Never had he taken each tread of the steps with such caution and care. These same steps had seen his youthful exuberance race up and down. His drunken feet had carried an equally intoxicated bride up them to claim as his own. Only one option dared to become a reality: I am the laird and these are my heirs.
Unlike his ancestors, Conall reached the bottom step with a sword strapped to his back. No clan tales hinted at an heir being questioned. With a quick glance back, he caught the welcome sight of the hilt peeking over Evan’s shoulder. I am the most fortunate of men to have such loyalty. His face beams with love for my child in his arms rather than distaste for losing his chance at the laird’s seat.
Robena stepped from the shadows at the base. He would have preferred Lena, but the housekeeper and Brenda remained with Sarah to tend her. Sarah had suggested Robena, her trust enough for him. If events in the hall led to battle, Robena and Peter would be entrusted to see his bairns safely locked upstairs with Sarah. Conall gave her a curt nod before stepping into the hall.
Torches blazed as if all were gathered for a grand feast, rather than a fate to be determined. All muttered conversation ceased as every pair of eyes settled on him. He knew what they beheld, the Draig Laird. The clan’s plaid wrapped around his waist and draped over his shoulder, secured with the dragon pin commissioned with love.
“Wear the damned shirt,” Sarah had commanded. “Appear to be obedient.” His wife had shared her wisdom equal to any master strategist. He had briefly wondered what she would have devised during his years of warfare.
His gaze caught Robert’s smug grin before he gave Donald his full attention. The warriors gathered in the hall, every last one if he counted correctly, all rose to their feet. Each man wore full battle weaponry, which never occurred in the hall.
Donald bowed low and then he smiled at the sleeping bundle. His voice filled the space. “The Draig men have come to bear witness to the arrival of the heir.”
Conall had no notion if such words were for the benefit of the situation or if they contained long-honored custom, but it didn’t matter. “I trust you are well.”
“Aye, Laird,” Donald answered with a grin, even if his skin showed pale.
Conall pitched his voice to boom over the crowd. “To all gathered, you have our thanks. We are pleased beyond measure to introduce you to the Draig heir.”
Robert’s dark laughter filled the air. “Dinna keep us waiting. Present the child so we may proceed.”
The voice resonated with command, but Conall knew Robert and caught the faint signs of uncertainty. The Bruce’s shoulders weren’t held as high as when victory loomed. His gaze flitted over the armed warriors, who greatly outnumbered his men. The poison worked, no one will come to save you. I stand in command. The silent affirmation filled his steps with intense confidence as he carried his precious bundle to the one man who remained seated.
On the other side of the table, Lady Jacqueline rose. “How fares Sarah?”
The inquiry caught him off guard. The woman stood to lose and yet offered concern for his wife. “She fares well, my thanks.”
From the woman’s side, Colette stared only at the shirt covering his chest. He would swear he watched color drain from the girl’s cheeks. While Evan enjoyed flirting with the young lass, Conall saw nothing that intrigued him. Colette held no intense spirit and no fire burned deep in her soul. My life would be void of all if I were to be tied to her.
“Show us,” Robert demanded, after a long sip from the cup in his hand. “We have much more important matters to finalize.”
How dare he trivialize my wee ones? Yet, heeding his wife’s counsel, his hands unwrapped the child in his arms. Once exposed, he held her out for public viewing. “I give you Rachel, firstborn to the Draig.” The expected cheers rose from his men and the women gathered clapped and shouted their joy. The clan’s response should have been more exuberant, yet the uncertainty dampened the mood. But even with the merriment, eyes darted to the Bruce and the young woman Conall was expected to wed after the birth of a daughter.
Conall covered the currently fussing child, kissed her brow and placed her in Robena’s arms. Before the second-born had been unwrapped, Robert spoke. “Enough. You will obey me. Within seven nights, Sarah and the lasses will be removed and you will wed per my decree.”
He forced his mouth to remain quiet as the second born settled in his arms. Without a response, he unwrapped the child and held it out to be viewed by all. The second was the larger by far, with chubby thighs and a rounded belly. The closed green eyes scrunched as cool air washed over bare flesh. “My blessings ken no bounds. Two bairns.” His arms lifted the child to be presented. “I give you William, my son.”
The name given to the child had been chosen with care and meaning that all would understand. In Gaelic, William meant strong protector, a suitable and necessary title for the boy. He will guard his sister’s back as those out of legend have done.
The crowd that had been polite and uncertain at Rachel’s introduction roared to life with the male progeny. Cups banged on tables and cheers filled the air. He knew no one thought less of the female, but a male solved the woes at hand.
Conall covered his now squalling child and handed him to Peter. He dreaded facing Sarah after she received not one, but two fussing babes, after placing two contented and sleeping children in his care. The lusty cries filled the air and he beamed at the ruler, who scowled. “I have the male heir you demanded.”
Robert remained silent until the crowd quieted. That Peter and Robena were already up the stairs gave him the ability to focus on the final battle. Then Robert spoke. “The lass came first and has been declared heir by your own mouth. My decree stands.”
Shuffling behind him didn’t make Conall turn. He felt Evan at his back and knew without viewing the hall that Robert’s dozen men had done their best to flank him. But the Draig warriors would have also maneuvered to keep risk at bay. Without reaching for his sword, Conall shook his head. “You stand outnumbered, at least five Draig warriors to each of your men.” His head tilted to the door behind him. “If you await your six dozen that have been camped on my lands, your wait will be long.”
Robert rose to his feet with his hard gaze locked in fury. But Conall caught the flash of shock, one that screamed, how did you know? “I am your sworn king. I have no need of warriors. Your oath binds you to my service an
d my will. Your clan welcomed your heir, a lass.” It didn’t surprise him that Robert never asked what happened to his men. He is engaged in battle and has no time to contemplate losses.
Conall had to give the man credit; he stood defeated and yet crooned as if he held only power. Studying the man who asked for more than any man or king should, Conall tried to recall why he served so completely, with more than his body, but also with his soul. The internal question brought old mourning to mind mixed with clarity.
“My father and I vowed to serve you to prevent the English from reaching clan soil. After the deaths of my mother and sister, vengeance filled our hearts. But vengeance has been served. The English will nay come. The clan is safe.”
He breathed in the familiar scents of his home that had been absent for too many long years, the stone, scents of food, and then he pictured Sarah in his mind. Before he had met her, his life had consisted of delivering death. His soul had ached and had closed off from life’s meaningful events. She brought him back, delivered him into the light with her love. Be in the light with me, her voice whispered to him.
The Bruce had created his dark, using its ruthless calculations to his benefit. Morals and honor meant little with a kingdom to first be destroyed and then another created.
Pushing back the sleeve on his left arm, Conall revealed the clan’s marking, the dragon that never ended. “Before I vowed to you, I swore my life to the Draig clan. As laird, my life belongs to the clan.” Conall stepped closer until only a hand’s span separated them. “For years I served your will, but that time has passed. For the remainder of my days, I serve only the clan.”
Robert snarled. “You are the greatest of fools. What I offer you would have men on their knees begging for such fortunes. Gratitude should pour from your lips, praising me for lifting you higher than any other. Instead you react as if I torture you. Why must you defy me when I seek to make you great and powerful?”
Conall chuckled despite the intense scene. “What you offer is naught that I would seek.” His arms spread wide to emphasize the truth alive in his heart. “The clan is all to me, Sarah is mine, and my bairns have need of a father. I fought for you to have all that I hold. No man should seek more from any life.”
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