Iolande shook her head.“The babe comes in his own time.’Tis not for you to decide to cease the effort.”She gripped Alienor’s hands tightly in encouragement.Alienor closed her eyes, feeling the strength of Iolande’s will revive her.
“The path is wide for the babe,” the midwife confirmed, patting Alienor on the shoulder.“When next the pain comes, you must push.”
“Push,” Alienor repeated under her breath and licked her lips.The tightness grew in her belly, a premonition of the contraction to come, and she took a deep breath, hoping ’twould soon be past.
“As I recall, ’twas most satisfying to cry aloud,” Iolande said.
Alienor almost had time to smile before the pain captured her in its relentless grip.She screamed and ‘twas most satisfying.
“Excellent.”The midwife glanced up from her place between Alienor’s thighs.“Once more.”
“’Tis close now,” Iolande assured her.
Alienor did not hear her, for the power of the contraction tore another scream from her lips.
“Clear the way,all clear for the cart,” Roger roared to the crowd on the village road ahead, while Dagobert and Eustache huddled together in the wagon.They were wedged between sacks of wheat, and the unsteady lurching of the wagon almost sent the stacked bags of grain tumbling on top of them.
Would the sentries actually let Roger drive the cart of grain up to Montsalvat’s gates?’Twas sufficiently audacious that the ploy might work and was certainly worth a try.As they approached the sentry on the road, Dagobert was seized by doubts in the wisdom of his plan.Should they be discovered, they would surely be slaughtered on the spot.
The wagon came to a wobbly halt, Eustache granting Dagobert a grim look as the motion loosed one heavy sack and it landed close to his ear.Dagobert smiled at his friend’s disgruntled expression, then strained to hear the conversation just a few feet away.
“What have you here?”a gruff voice demanded.
Both knights fingered the hilts of their swords.
“A gift of wheat for Montsalvat,” Roger answered.
“Who sends this gift?”
Dagobert heard steps circling the wagon and braced himself to attack, should the cloth be cast back.
“I was bidden not to say,” Roger responded.
Dagobert closed his eyes in resignation at the clink of coins changing hands.He flicked a look to Eustache to catch his friend’s eyes rolling at Roger’s opportunism.
If only Roger did not find it profitable to betray them.Dagobert nearly drew his blade then and there.He must have been mad to trust this messenger whose loyalty was so easily bought and sold.
But who else could pass through the gates?Who else knew the way?Roger was the sole choice.
And what of Alienor?Had Dagobert not entrusted her care to this same Roger?
A cold fear gripped his heart and he wondered again whether she had safely gained the keep.He heartily regretted that he had not questioned Roger about this earlier.He had been too determined to reach her side with all haste.
Something scratched nearby, the sound seeming to come from the sacks of grain themselves.Dagobert froze, recalling the rats in his cell in Paris, sweat beading his brow as he examined the sacks he could see.
The men outside had been silent too long, he thought in sudden fear.Eustache’s hand landed heavily on his arm when he might have revealed himself.Dagobert met the steadiness of his companion’s gaze and watched Eustache shake his head.He exhaled unevenly, closing his eyes in relief as the voices rose once more.
“You are indeed a right-thinking man,” Roger said, the coins jingling as he dropped them into some place of safekeeping.His voice dropped to a whisper and Dagobert strained to hear his words.“’Tis from a lord who wishes to support his neighbor without endangering himself, you understand.”
The other man grunted in resignation before another clink of coins was heard.
Eustache shook his head in amazement at the little man’s skill and silently rolled to his back.
“I would have his name,” the questioner said grimly.
There was a heavy pause, as if Roger considered his loyalties.
Another coin evidently decided the issue for him.
