A thousand conflicting thoughts flowed like raging rapids through Cardin’s tortured mind.
I can’t bring him with me back to Biarritz. I’m a drunken gambler, drowning in debt. I have no home. No honor. Nowhere for him to live. He’s better off with Bastien and Gabrielle at le Château de Beaufort in Finistère.
But Lukaz is miserable there. Mercilessly teased as a bastard. If I abandon him again, it will break him. He’ll lose his father. With Maman’s impending death, he’ll soon lose his beloved grandmother. If he returns to Finistère, he’ll lose Ulla, too, the teacher he has grown to love. Her wolf, Vill. The falcons, Finn and Rask. His majestic colt, Kol. All the animals with Viking names he chose with her.
He can bring Rask with him back to le Château de Beaufort. My brother Bastien hunts with falcons. When Lukaz returns here for the holidays each Yuletide season, Papa and Quentin will train him to ride the Friesian. In three years, when Kol is ready, Lukaz can ride his stallion back to Finistère. Serve as a squire to a knight of Beaufort, like Gaultier, Bastien, and I did as lads. Every summer, Lukaz can go to la Joyeuse Garde with his Uncle Bastien and his cousins, Gunnar and Haldar. Train at Lancelot’s castle. Just like I did as a boy.
Waves of gut-wrenching guilt washed over him as he came to the stark realization.
Lukaz is better off without me. He’ll go back to Beaufort, and I’ll return to Biarritz. Win enough silver to pay off Itzal Baroja. And drown my sorrows in an endless sea of glorious, golden mead.
Cardin forced a reassuring smile and glanced down at his young, anxious son. “We’ll see, Lukaz. But for now, we need to escort Lady Ulla home. And join Papi and Lord Quentin at the castle stables.”
He led Lukaz and Ulla—the vigilant wolf Vill, as always, at her side— through the dense woods, back to the secluded stone cottage. While he watched his son hug the beguiling priestess goodbye, Cardin bid her farewell with a forced cheer he did not feel. “Bonne journée, Ulla. See you tomorrow.À demain.”
His heart as heavy as a bourdon funeral bell, a solemn Cardin brought a silent Lukaz through the thick forest, across the leaf-strewn castle bailey, and back tole Château de Landuc.
****
As Maëlys tucked him into bed, Laudine kissed Lukas goodnight before heading to the private solar to join her husband Esclados, oldest son Gaultier, and youngest son Cardin in front of the hearth. Relaxing in wooden tufted chairs as they imbibed mead, her three men sat companionably in front of the blazing fire, enjoying its lulling warmth against the late October chill.
She accepted a cup of chamomile tea from a competent servant, settled into a comfortable seat, and observed Cardin out of the corner of her eye.
Although Esclados and Gaultier chatted amicably about training with the knights, Cardin scowled in silence and stared into his mug of mead. Brows furrowed into a pensive, brooding frown, he downed the contents of his silver chalice and signaled a valet for more.
Something is troubling him. He’s deep into his cups. What happened at Ulla’s cottage?
An urgent knock at the door interrupted Laudine’s thoughts. When she looked up to see who was calling at this late hour, her heart leapt to her throat at the sight of the crimson-faced stable hand. Hunched over, breath heaving, Argant gasped, “Lady Laudine! Lord Quentin sent me to fetch you.” Swallowing forcefully, he stood, inhaled deeply, and spoke in a quavering, anguished voice. “We must hurry, milady. Rozenn’s baby is coming. But…there’s too much blood!”
Laudine sprang to her feet, wiping damp palms along the sides of her gown. She summoned the dutiful valet who had greeted Argant at the door. “Fetch the Lady Ulla. I will need her assistance for this difficult birth. Tell her to bring the satchel of herbs, and to come with you at once. Go quickly!” As the messenger raced out the door, Laudine mentally calculated what she would need as she spoke to her husband and sons. “I know Ulla does not want to deliver the babe, but I need her skills as a midwife and healer.” She turned toward Cardin, whose impassioned eyes blazed in the flickering flames.He is reliving the night Lukaz was born. When his beloved wife Charlotte died.“Stay here with Lukaz. If we’re not back by morning, bring him to the cottage so he can feed Vill and let Ulla’s hens out of the chicken coop.” She squeezed his calloused, shaking hand and kissed his bristled, bearded cheek. “I’ll send word as soon as I can.”
While Esclados and Gaultier strapped on their swords and summoned two additional knights to escort the pair of midwives through the forest, Laudine retrieved her bag of medicinal herbs from the corner cupboard of the alcove in her kitchen. She tucked a needle, thread, beeswax candle, and calendula soap inside the large leather sack. Grabbing a bottle of wine to cleanse potential wounds, she rejoined the men in the castle solar, heading toward the front door just as the valet appeared with a visibly distraught Ulla.
“It’s Rozenn’s babe,” Laudine explained, hooking her elbow inside the healer’s slender arm. “I need your help. And your skill. Come, we must hurry.” Motioning for her husband, son, and duo of protective knights to depart, she addressed the stable hand Argant. “Lead the way. We’ll follow you.”
Chapter 14
Rebirth
Carrying a torch to light the way, the stable hand Argant led Laudine, Ulla, and their chivalrous escorts toward the humble cabin nestled in the dense woods not far from the castle stables.
“Send a messenger to fetch us when you’re ready to return. Good luck, my love. Rozenn is in very capable hands.” Esclados kissed Laudine’s cheek, dipped his head to Ulla, and departed with Gaultier and the other two knights, back tole Château de Landuc.
When Argant opened the heavy front door of the cabin, Laudine led a reluctant, apprehensive Ulla inside the simple home.
The acrid, coppery stench of blood permeated the foreboding air.
A frantic Quentin, his freckled face crumpled in fear, rushed to greet the pair of midwives. “Thank the Goddess you’ve come. She’s in here.” He led Laudine and Ulla into a dimly lit room where a listless Rozenn, her cheeks flushed and feverish, lay whimpering in a bed saturated with blood. Quentin knelt at his wife’s side and kissed her limp hand. “Laudine and Ulla are here. They’ll help you deliver the babe. Be strong,mon amour.Our child will be born soon.”
An alarming amount of blood. I’ll stanch it with yarrow so I can determine the cause.
“Hello, Rozenn. Ulla and I are here to help bring your babe into the world.” Laudine smoothed the damp hair from the young woman’s flustered face and spoke in a calm, soothing voice. “I’m going to check you now. Take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and relax.”
When the tightening of Rozenn’s enormous stomach subsided, Laudine examined her and conferred quietly with Ulla. “She’s been pushing too soon. The mouth of her womb has torn. That’s why there’s so much blood.” She glanced at Rozenn, who dozed fitfully between the intense contractions. “I’ve slowed the bleeding with yarrow and applied herbs to soften the womb and hasten the birth. The herbs work quickly, so she’ll be ready to push very soon. Let’s replace these blood-soaked linens with fresh ones. It will boost her spirits and renew her strength.”
While Laudine rolled up and removed the soiled sheets, Ulla slid fresh ones under Rozenn’s feet and legs.
Two hours later, after much coaxing, encouragement, and strenuous exertion, an exhausted but jubilant Rozenn cradled her squalling newborn son. Tears streaming down her sweat-drenched face, she sobbed to her two midwives, “Thank you both so very much. I could never have done it without you.”
