The Kingdom

48

Keira woke up early again in the morning. She had barely slept through the night though. James leaving for war was too much to take and didn't let her rest. Him, on the other hand, acted like nothing happened that day. At night, they made love as usual. They talked about Mercia, his plan and recuperating their son and she clarified some doubts. Not that it rested her heart. Her heart would only rest when she'd have him back. James was sleeping profoundly when she gave up on tossing and turning in bed. Thus, Keira washed herself, got dressed, put some broth cooking in the fire and then put on her cloak for she was hearing a commotion outside already.

The morning was frosty and gray, just like her mood. She woke up feeling empty and lost, as if something important had been taken away from her. In reality it had... her son, but the probability of losing James as well was as scary. She tried to shake off the feeling by going for a walk, but the cold air only made her feel more isolated. The chill froze her bones despite the cloak around her. Then, something caught her eyes a small bird perched on a branch, singing its heart out despite the cold. It reminded her that even in the darkest of times, there is still beauty and hope to be found. A detail made her shiver though and it wasn't from the cold. As much as the bird brought her some help, the scenario terrified her. Her heart started beating fast and her legs shook. Her eyes raided the men going back and forth, busy with their affairs.

The village had never been so busy and scary at the same time. The air was thick with the sound of clanging swords and shields as the Saxon warriors were preparing for war. Keira stood there, watching in fear and awe at the same time as they sharpened their swords and axes, and donned their armor. The smell of sweat mixed with the scent of freshly oiled leather filled her nostrils. Their men were fierce and unyielding, willing to fight to death for what they believed in. As she watched them prepare for battle, she couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for these men who were willing to put everything on the line for her, for James and their son. Together with the sound of their swords, their war cries also echoed through the village as they prepared to charge their enemy, ready to fight until their last breath. She had seen warriors prepare before. Avon fought many battles, but she never had so much to lose as on that one. It was not only her husband and her son, but also friends and people that she learned to respect. She felt proud to witness such bravery and determination firsthand, and most of all loyalty. She was afraid many of them wouldn't come back.

"Hey!" She felt a warmth arm around her as a warm recognizable voice greeted her.

"Cath..." Keira smiled and reached out for her sister's hand. "Is Cahill sleeping?"

"Aye!" Cathleen responded more interested in the sadness of her sister than in the commotion happening in front of them.

"I'm so afraid..." Keira whispered, feeling vulnerable with her sister's presence. "What if..." A yelp escaped her lips and she covered her mouth not to say anything else.

"I know how you feel." Cathleen kissed her sister's cheek inhaling her scent of herbs. "I love those soaps you now make." She commented trying to distract her.

"A woman taught me how to make them in the last city we lived before going to London for help." Keira explained. "How do you cope with it? What are your secrets?" That moment, she looked into her sisters eyes pleading for a miraculous solution for her apprehension. "I can't stand it..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I couldn't sleep at night thinking I can lose him. I can lose him, Cath..." Keira wrapped her arms around her sister's neck and leaned her face on her shoulder as she subsided to her cry.

"Sush..." Cathleen whispered while patting the back of her head. Keira was sobbing low, expelling all her anger, frustration, and fear. "We are staying here with you to support you. You will not be alone sister." Keira pulled away that moment with her eyes swollen, wet and red. She sniffed and cleaned them with the back of her hands.