Chapter 42
“Well this changes everything,” Percy didn’t look at me with wide frightened eyes like Jonathan was currently doing. Nor did he freeze in place, no Percy merely made sure Torcall had me securely in his arms before he stepped away from me. Then he quickly spoke to a man who ran from the platform.
Finally he took a deep breath and he stepped forward to occupy the place where Jonathan had stood to address the army. Using his hands he quietened the men and as soon as silence descended he smiled.
“The Gods have sent us a great omen, The Queen has gone into Labour! The Heir will see our victory!”
The crowd erupted. Swords were raised in the air and it was as if the men roared their approval.
If I was not bent over in pain and clinging to Torcall as if my life depended on it, I would have acknowledged their support.
Jonathan did not move. His hands were still resting on my shoulders and his eyes were still unfocused.
“The battle must wait for the arrival of the next King. Rest men, rest and pray for the safe arrival of our future King.”
With that Torcall took charge of me. He gently removed his son’s hands from me and let them drop. Then with a knowing smile he helped me from the stage as best he could. It was Thomas who reacted quickly. Without a word he was at my side and Torcall released me into his arms. Thomas carried me back to my tent. I could only presume that Jonathan was left on the platform still with the same shocked expression glued to his face.
“Given my son’s reaction, I presume that you are about to make me a Grandfather?” Torcall asked once we were in the privacy of my tent.
I looked at Torcall’s smile and knew he didn’t expect an answer, which was lucky because the midwife entered the tent and quickly shooed the men away.
She examined me and I was relieved to see a smile on her face, “Your labour is progressing well Ma’lady. Don’t push. Breathe, but don’t push until I tell you.”
“How long until she delivers?” The voice came from the doorway.
“I don’t know, each woman is different, Lord Percival.”
“Maeb, you can’t deliver this child until the witnesses arrive. Do you understand?”
Damn, the witnesses, I had forgotten that they were needed. Thank goodness Percy was here. Every Royal birth must be witnessed. Only then would there be no question as to the legitimacy of the heir. A female child could not inherit the throne and nor could a dead child. Prominent nobility had to be present to witness the birth as proof that the child was not substituted for one who could rule.
I clenched my teeth as the contractions got more painful. I would not scream out in pain. Not when so many men stood outside the canvas of my tent. Not when an Army of brave men waited and listened for the cry of my child not the screams of the mother. No, I would show my men how strong I was. I would endure the pain.
“Bite down on this it will save your teeth and it helps,” the midwife smiled as she wiped the sweat from my brow. She must have guessed what I intended to do because she handed me a strip of thick hard leather.
I breathed deeply as I waited for the next contraction. A shadow moved along the canvas near the door. The broad silhouette paced backwards and forwards outside. I smiled. Jonathan.
My breathing increased and I wedged the leather into my mouth and bit down before the pain rolled over me. I bit hard as I swallowed the scream and pushed myself to breathe quick short breaths. The pain consumed me. My muscles contracted and my fists clenched. I had known much pain in my life but little compared to this. It was almost made worse by the short periods of reprieve, just enough to catch your breath but not enough to prepare for the next onslaught.
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A Knight To Remember
Ficción históricaAt the end of the campaign season the King returns with a new Hero. Lord Torc is a mighty warrior whose conquests on the battlefield and the bedroom are legendary. He is a man unlike any Maeb has ever met - strong, handsome and hungry for her. B...