Night fell, and the still room became dark. Ulla lit a beeswax candle, added a log to the fire, and returned to sit beside the bed. She held Cardin’s hand, absently rubbing the dark hair on his knuckles as she gazed into the flickering flames in the hearth. Seven years ago, Cardin sat beside his beloved wife as she labored to give birth to his son.
A jubilant Lukaz burst into the room, his effervescence and enthusiasm instantly squelched at the sight of his stricken father. “I wanted to show you my shield,” he said apologetically, displaying the gift Cardin had requisitioned from the local armorer for his son’s birthday. Across the top of the kite-shaped wooden shield, five black ermine symbols—emblems ofla Bretagne—stood on a white background above the golden-horned ram and rearing lion, the royal heraldry of Finistère.
Ulla gracefully accepted the fine weapon as Lukaz handed it to her with honor blazing in his bright blue eyes. She nodded in approval as her fingers caressed the smooth, polished wood, admiring the intricate details and superb craftsmanship. With an appreciative smile, she returned the tapered shield to its proud new owner.
“It’s perfect for a future knight of Finistère.” Laudine stroked the dark, shiny waves of Lukaz’ thick hair that so resembled his father’s. “When your papa awakens, he’ll be delighted to see how much his gift pleases you.” She smiled bravely as she met Ulla’s gaze. “Lady Ulla has a birthday gift for you, too. She asked me to bring you here so she could give it to you.”
Ulla rose to her feet and left Cardin’s side. She strode across the room to the walnut sideboard where the wrapped gift sat upon the marble tabletop. The silver threads in the finely woven cloth sparkled in the firelight. She handed the gift to Lukaz and watched as he opened her handmade gift.
“A new falconry glove!” he exclaimed with glee, sliding his hand into the brown deerskin lined with soft rabbit fur. “I can wear it when we hunt with Rask and Finn!”
You can bring Rask with you back to le Château de Beaufort. And wear your new glove in Finistère.Ulla swallowed an enormous lump of sorrow at the thought of losing the little boy whom she already loved like a son. How could she ever let him go? But if Cardin did not survive, she would have no claim to Lukaz. He would go back to Beaufort without her.
Laudine slid an appreciative fingertip over the straps of the falconry glove. “It’s adjustable—to accommodate your growth as you become a seasoned hunter.” She hugged Lukaz to her ample maternal bosom. “Give Lady Ulla a kiss and thank her for the wonderful gift.”
While Lukaz hugged Ulla, expressing his gratitude as he fervently kissed her cheek, Laudine announced, “It’s time to join our guests and decorate the Yuletide tree. It’s a Breton tradition for the Winter Solstice that dates back to our Celtic ancestors.” She smiled at her grandson. “We’ll come back to say goodnight to Lady Ulla and your papa after the decorating. Come, let’s go join your cousins.” Preparing to leave, Laudine bent to kiss Cardin’s forehead, whispering words of prayer and encouragement into his unhearing ear. Withla biseof farewell on Ulla’s cheek, she led an exuberant Lukaz from the darkened room.
A clattering of dishes alerted Ulla to someone approaching in the hall. Ruddy cheeks aglow above his blond beard, a beaming Jehan entered the chamber with a platter of sumptuous food. “Since you couldn’t join the birthday celebration, milady, I’ve brought the feast to you.” He set a tantalizing tray on the marble-topped walnut sideboard. Ulla glimpsed roast pheasant, baked trout, steaming vegetables from Laudine’s greenhouse, and a mouth-watering assortment of sweetmeats that Maëlys must have spent days concocting. “Bon appétit. Madame.Enjoy your meal. I’ll be back later to fetch the tray.” Jehan bowed at the waist and disappeared out the door.
Although the cuisine was superb, Ulla found it difficult to eat. Worry and grief consumed her. At the thought of her unborn child, she forced some of the tasteless food down her constricted throat.The babe in my womb needs nourishment. And I must stay strong to heal Cardin.
When she’d eaten enough, she left the tray on the sideboard and returned to the chair at Cardin’s side. In the still, dark room, Ulla gazed at the dancing flames in the hearth, her thoughts returning to the night Lukaz was born.
The Winter Solstice. The longest night of the year, when darkness overwhelms the light. Like now. I sit here in the darkness of despair, losing the man I love, just as Cardin lost Charlotte seven years ago.
Horrific images from the past inundated her in a drowning flood of pain.
Her husband Romain, valiantly but vainly defending their home from murderous, marauding pirates, his throat slashed as he shouted to warn her of the attack.
Her infant son Fjall, slaughtered before her very eyes in his aging nurse’s arms.
Her two knights, desperate to save theirchâtelaine, preventing her from leaving the woods where she gathered herbs. Forcing her into the saddle instead. Returning her to Laudine andle Château de Landuc. To the Forest of Brocéliande.
I’ve already lost everyone I love. I cannot lose Cardin, too. Please, dear Goddess, show me how to save him. What more can I do? I’ve coaxed him to drink water from the sacred spring, laced with herbs from the verdant forest. I’ve anointed his body with ointments and oils. Surrounded him with healing crystals in the shape of a celestial star. How can I reach him in the darkness? How can I call him back into the light?
As Jehan entered the room to retrieve the tray, Ulla was struck by a flash of inspiration. She leapt to her feet and grasped the servant’s sinewy forearm, willing him to stay with imploring eyes. She quickly scribbled a message on her tablet and handed it to him, her pulse pounding in her dry throat.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot read, milady.” Bewilderment and shame reflected in his expressive eyes.
Ulla wiped the slate clean and drew an image instead. When she handed him the tablet, his bearded face stretched into a bemused, astonished grin. “You’d like me to fetch your harp? The one you used to play for us when you were a girl?”
Knees weak and wobbly, she nodded in a fervent frenzy.
“I’ll bring it to you, Lady Ulla. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
****
Flames scorched his sizzling skin. A raging thirst parched his dry throat. Fire radiated from his chest, his entire body immobilized by incapacitating pain. As darkness and oblivion beckoned, Cardin heard brilliant, glittering strands of ethereal music, drawing him toward a golden light.
The melodic liquid flowed over him like the cascade of a cool, clear spring. Lucid and pure, the limpid notes splashed into a pool of memories, bubbling to the surface.
Pine-scented evergreen boughs with garlands of holly and ivy. Family and friends feasting in the festive Great Hall. Dancingla caroleto the lively tune of fiddles and flutes. A glorious golden harp bathing the castle in luxurious, luminous sound.
As the melody tugged at his memory, a crystalline voice called to him.
With a song recognized by his soul.
She used to play the harp every holiday season and fill the whole castle with ephemeral, transcendent music. She’d sing the Celtic Yuletide Carol.
