The last hog of the season had been slaughtered and was slow roasting over the spit in the kitchens. I could smell it from the great hall, the fatty scent saturating my senses. Gripping the back of the chair, I swallowed hard and fought the rise of bile at the back of my throat.
From what I could recall, this stage of the pregnancy would only last another month or so. Teàrlag brewed a tea of wild ginger that calmed my stomach and made a nosegay of dried lavender for me. I whipped the delicate bundle of purple blossoms from my fitchet and inhaled. The nausea waned.
Gathering myself, I strode towards the kitchen. I needed a word with the cook on the food I would be served. Teàrlag had detailed a very specific diet for me to make sure my body had what it needed for the baby. I was going to give this child every chance to survive within me. I could only hope I wouldn't be disappointed with a girl for a second time.
“Lady Mother!” Emalia rose from the kitchen table, her face covered in flour.
I halted at the sight of who was helping her and the cook bake. Theodric glanced up with a vague smile and slapped a mound of dough on the table as Emalia trotted towards me. The cook gave a slight bow where she stood by the hearth turning the spit, her gaze scraping over me with disinterest. She hadn't approved when I failed as an attentive mother to Emalia. Unfortunately, her skills in the kitchen were close to witchcraft so I ignored her cheek.
Emalia pointed towards the table. “Theodric is showing me how to make the loaves my grandmother used to bake.”
I nodded and forced a smile. “I see that.”
Theodric strode towards me. I hadn't noticed Argath until that moment. He was in the corner whittling at a piece of wood. Though he seemed preoccupied, I sensed his eyes on me like a hawk watching a rodent. Theodric wiped his hands on a rag and patted Emalia's shoulder. The little girl beamed up at him and I fought the impulse to slap his hand away from her.
“Lady Emalia, will you go inspect my work for me? I need your approval before it can be put in the oven.”
Emalia skipped away, excited for the chance at responsibility. Left alone with him, I regretted not excusing myself the moment after I had greeted my daughter. He seemed none the worse for the wear after being drenched in wine. In fact, he was quite at ease. As though we were already married. I gritted my teeth and stared blankly at him.
“I find it interesting that a Nobleman such as yourself finds time to do some baking.” I lifted my eyebrows, folding my hands in front of me.
Theodric shrugged as he wiped a stain of white dough from his sharp cheekbone. “I keep a very minimal staff at Gegar Red. Some days its easier to do my own cooking. I find it calming.”
“I have never cooked anything in my life.”
“I am not surprised.” He smirked and a flash of my dream from the night before danced over him, blood red and grinning like a fiend. I looked away. He reached out but did not touch my hand, drawing my attention. “Lady Hania, I wanted to offer my apology for my conduct last night. I fear the drink got the better of me.”
“Wine is no excuse for abject stupidity, Lord Theodric.”
Though our tones were low, our exchange drew Argath's full focus. He rose from his seat. Theodric glanced over his shoulder without making eye contact with his man. Argath sank once more into the chair but watched me intently. I wondered what Argath thought he could do to me at that moment. I wanted to dare him just so I would have an excuse to strike one of them.
“Yes, I do deserve that from you.”
“Well then I'm glad we at least agree on one thing.”
The smell was getting to me again, filling my head and making it spin. I gagged but managed to keep my composure. Theodric reached out and I stepped back sharply.
“My lady, are you well-”
“It's the meat cooking, it makes me ill to smell it. I fear you must excuse me, Lord Theodric.” I turned to leave.
“But have you eaten yet?”
I scoffed. “What does it matter?”
Reaching towards a bowl nearby, he grabbed an apple from the top. He tossed it across the distance between us and I caught it. He gave a short bow then pivoted towards the table, praising Emalia for her good work with the dough.
Ignoring the snicker from the cook, I strode out into the courtyard. The cold air was like a baptism. Breathing deeply, my stomach settled. My feet took me beyond the castle walls. Without realizing where I was walking, I found myself in the copse of bare birches at the lake side. It was where the burial ground was located. A fresh mound of earth had been padded down on top of Brisam.
The ache surfaced like an infection. I wanted to throw myself on his grave and weep till I was empty. I wished it was summer and I could be given the privacy of thick foliage and green. But early winter had killed everything.
“Don't let them see you here, my lady.”
I wiped my cheeks. Behind me trudged Teàrlag, a tightly woven mossy cloak over her bony shoulders. A pipe smoldered in her craggy fingers.
“I didn't mean to- I just-” I choked.
Teàrlag strode towards me and laid a hand on my elbow. “Tell me. Is this young man here the father?”
“No, no. We never-” I gasped as though a ghostly fist had struck me in the gut, “He was never with me. But he did...”
“He cared for you.”
I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself tightly.
“This game you are playing, my lady, this poor young man is a danger to you and your children. You must bury your feelings so deep, you forget them. If any ever suspected this babe wasn't the seed of Lord Sidimund, you would be in more danger than I care to imagine. Your people are not kind to women who sleep with men other than their husbands, even if their husband was a dirty beast.”
I scoffed, dabbing my swollen eyes with my sleeves. After I had found I was pregnant with Emalia, I requested a Tormod midwife. Sidimund had snickered and asked why I would want a beast at my bedside. Of course, he never saw himself as the animal he was but Teàrlag did. Right from our first meeting.
“Chin up now, dear one," she purred, smoke drifitng from her dry lips. “Never let them see your tears.”
I allowed her to lead me back to the castle as a heavy twilight fell on the mountain lake.
Teàrlag brewed me a tea with calming herbs to lull me into a dreamless sleep. She stayed by my side until I drifted off under a warm layer of fur. Sinking into a black sea of nothing, I forgot my fears and woes. I forgot the smell of oiled leather when Brisam embraced me. Blissfully ignorant to my grief, I slept.
It was his voice that woke me. As clear as though he were still living. Sidimund was calling me, rising from the depths of the lake, striding the icy shores with rotten feet. His eyes eaten away by fish.
In my stupor, I stumbled out of bed. Grabbing the apple Theodric had given me, I threw it with all my strength at the window, terror gripping my heart. Glass shattered and I awoke.
Blinking in the sharp wind that blew through the room and doused the candles, I edged towards the broken pane. I peered in the dim light of the dying fire towards the lake. At the graveyard, a figure rose up on all from all fours and stretched towards the inky sky. It was a bear standing vigil over Brisam's grave.
Fear turned to rage as I barreled from the room and out into the sleeping castle. Snow bit into my bare feet as I ran through the courtyard and out towards the water's edge. I waved my arms and hollered. The animal turned towards me but I did not stop. Perhaps I was still dreaming.
But I would not let the demon bear devour Brisam's soul as well.
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