Mist on the Moon

It's my baby

For a long time afterwards, Cara was in thought. Sometimes almost cringing with fear as she had visions of Trent fighting in battle. Other times, her thoughts went in a different direction for she realized that being in a position of power and eminence meant very little to her. She would give it all up for peace and to have a man who didn't have to fight.

Ah, but she supposed most men had to fight in the crazy time in which they were living. Certainly the knights. Maybe not the peasants, but their life to her seemed to be so poor, dwelling in their little hovels, scraping a living from their farm work, their gardens, and whatever else they could do to earn their keep. But at least they didn't have to go off to war, that is unless the kingdom in which they lived was completely overrun by the enemy.

Cara sat alone for some time ruminating in her thoughts. Suddenly, she realized she needed to talk to someone. Someone who was in a similar position in life. Getting up from the comfortable chair in which she was sitting, she decided to visit the former queen, the dowager queen-Trent's mother. It had been months since the king had died, and though she had mourned with her afterward, still it had been some time since she had talked with her. She owed her mother-in-law a visit. More than that, she felt a need to talk to her.

Cara went to her grand suite and was immediately admitted by the guard at the door, who also served to announce her visit, and she came quickly into the old queen's presence.

"Nice of you to visit," she said. "Sit down, Cara. May I offer you some tea?"

"That would be nice," Cara answered. She noticed that the dowager queen was well dressed in an attractive ensemble, even though she was only in her own magnificent suite, with no known functions to be dressed up for.

"So much has happened, and we have talked far too little, Cara."

"So true. Time seems to pass so fast that I scarcely know where it goes."

"Yes, but my son has told be the welcome news that you are in the maternal way. I am glad for both of you."

"I don't supposed it was unexpected. The midwife thinks it is a boy. Trent is pleased."

"Of course he would be, but midwives are not always right. Still, I am happy for you and for me as well. I'm afraid I will be a doting grandmother."

Cara was moved by her words. She had not before thought of those implications of the birth of their child. "Yes," she answered, "I will like that."

"Do you know how far along you are?" she asked.

"Not really. Though what is so wonderful is that for the last week I have been feeling our child in my womb. Just before he left, Trent was able to feel our baby as well."

"I'm glad. I think when that happens a child becomes real in a man's eyes."

"Yes," Cara replied, not knowing what else she could say. The thought that was coming to her mind was on a completely different matter. She noted that the former queen seemed happy, anticipating the birth of their child. Yet there was something she felt she needed to ask her. "My lady, did the king have to fight in many battles?"

The queen went silent. Cara saw her close her eyes. Finally, she answered. "Too many."

Cara could see that it was a delicate subject for her. But before she could say more Trent's mother added. "I always worried. And now, I worry just as much because it is my son who is leading the forces." She looked away from Cara's gaze as if trying not to meet her in eye contact.

Cara suddenly felt a closeness to the former queen that she had not experienced before. The woman identified with her feelings exactly, seeming to know the same fear that distressed her so much. She wondered about the former king. "I am glad the king was not hurt when he was leading the army."

Cara saw the woman look at her strangely before saying, "He was hurt, but thankfully recovered. After that I think he was more careful. You know, Cara, you don't go leading an army riding high up in front with banners waving. It's too dangerous. The enemy can shoot an arrow at you! I just hope Trent knows that. He is too bold. I wish I could have talked to him before he set off."

Cara crossed the distance separating them and they embraced, their concern for a son and a spouse uniting them in a common bond.

Afterwards the dowager queen seemed suddenly tired and sat down saying, "God be with him! God be with all of our men."

"Yes, with Trent and all of them," echoed Cara.

Cara saw Trent's mother look at her stomach, which by now was definitely showing her pregnancy, though not overwhelmingly so. "So, how far along does the midwife think you are?"

"Four months, five at most."

"If five, then it is not too soon to start making some preparations.

"Trent and I have talked about it in a general way. We will have a cradle of course when the child is young."

"Do you know I still have his old one. It is in storage. If you would like it, I think it is still in quite good condition."

Cara smiled at the thought of Trent so small that he slept in a cradle. She didn't know if he would want that memory of himself as a baby in their home with their own son. "Thank you. It may be unlikely that Trent would even remember it. I must talk with him."

"Of course. I can tell you that it is a good one, well made. Of course, as you know, there are many other things to think about and plan for when expecting a baby. That I probably do not have to tell you."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course." Cara suddenly felt completely distracted as her mind went to Trent. She felt the need for him to be there to talk with her about these things. Despite the pleasant conversation with his mother, she could not forget the danger he was in. Her head had been down, but now she raised it to look at the older woman. "Do you think he will be back before long?"

"God, I do hope so! Unfortunately, matters of war always seem to take much longer than most men think. Then, when they do come back they are dirty, always with some of them wounded, and usually having left some knights dead and buried far away. But enough of that kind of talk. We must pray for an easy victory and for our loved ones to return safely home to be swept into our arms.

"Yes, that is my prayer too." With thoughts in her mind about death and dying, Cara could hardly bear to talk anymore. She stood up to give a goodbye hug to Trent's mother. As she was leaving, the queen mother said to her.

"I am so glad you visited, Cara. We can talk more later when hopefully Trent and the army are back. One thing, though. Have you thought about a wet nurse?"

Cara was at the door when the question came to her. "No, not at all."

"You should," said the older woman.

Cara didn't answer her, but instead walked out the door. It bothered her that her mother-in-law had even brought up the subject. After all, it was her baby, her baby and Trent's. No one else's. She would do for their baby what she and Trent saw fit to do.