Caius nodded solemnly, although they both knew he didn’t mean a word of it. He simply did it to placate his mother. “I promise,” he said. “Mama, will Papa be here very soon?”
Isobeau nodded, turning to look at the gatehouse, shielding her eyes from the sun. “He should be here very soon,” she said. “I would like for you to greet your father when he arrives but not covered from head to toe in white powder.”
Solomon stood up, stiffly. He wasn’t moving particularly well these days but he could still handle two small boys. At least, most of the time. His entire life revolved around hisgrandchildren– Caius, Leonidus, and little Morgana. He loved the children dearly. But Caius and Leonidus reminded him very much of Titus and Atticus, from long ago, so he spent nearly every waking minute with those two, watching them explore and learn and cover themselves in white dust so they could be clouds. So late in his life, he never imagined he would know such joy. Five years ago, he believed his life was over. He could have never guessed that it had only just begun.
“I will clean them off,” Solomon said.
Grasping each boy by the shoulder, he pulled them over to a very large barrel that was used to catch rainwater. The stone masons had been using it to cool off the stone when they worked on it. Picking up Caius, he promptly dunked the lad into the cold water, pushing his head under briefly, and when Caius came up howling, Solomon lifted him out of the water and set him to his feet. He pointed to the drenched, but now clean, child.
“See?” he said. “He is clean now.”
Leonidus, seeing what was coming, tried to run but his grandfather dunked him, too. Soon, Isobeau had two weeping boys on her hands. They were clean but crying because they were now cold and wet. She sighed heavily when what she really wanted to do was laugh. It was unbelievably comical; the children crying while Solomon stood there proudly.
“Do you see now why you should not cover yourself in dust or mud or anything else?” she said to Caius, who was unhappily wiping the tears from his eyes. “Your grandfather will try to drown you.”
Caius frowned at his grandfather and moved closer to his mother because he knew she wouldn’t try to throw him in cold water. “We will go wait for Papa by the gatehouse,” he said, motioning to the still-wailing Leonidus. “Leo, come!”
Little Leonidus followed his older brother, still crying. Isobeau and Solomon watched the boys trot off and Solomonreached down to pick up little Morgana, still standing next to her mother. He cuddled the little girl, who rubbed her hands gleefully all over his bushy beard.
“Ah, my little sweetling,” Solomon said, gazing at the dark-haired, blue-eyed girl. “Have I told you lately how much she looks like Rosalie?”
Isobeau grinned, rubbing at her swollen belly. The next child was due next month but she was ready to be done with it. Her back hurt, she had burning in her belly after she ate, and she was at the stage where she was generally uncomfortable.
“She looks just like Atticus,” she said as they followed the boys and began their walk to the gatehouse. Her thoughts turned to her husband, gone the past seven weeks. Two of his envoys had arrived early this morning, announcing his arrival that day, and she was understandably anxious. “We’ve not had any news of what is happening with Edward and Henry as of late, Solomon. Do you think Atticus returning today will be for good? Do you believe he will be home to stay?”
Solomon, the old and wizened soldier, shook his head. “I do not believe so, lass,” he said as Morgana continued to run her hands over his beard because it tickled. “These wars have been going on since I was a young man and longer even than that. I am not entirely sure they will ever be finished.”
Isobeau didn’t like the sound of that. She continued to rub at her belly, frowning, as they made their way towards the gatehouse. They were in close proximity when the call went up from the sentries on the wall, announcing the imminent arrival of Atticus de Wolfe and his army. Solomon shooed Isobeau and Morgana up onto a flight of stairs so they could watch the arrival but not be trampled by the herd of horses that would soon be filling the inner ward.
True enough, a herd of horses and armed men arrived shortly thereafter, bringing clouds of dust and the smell of battle withthem. Isobeau kept an eye out for her husband but she also kept an eye on her boys, who were standing on the steps above her, yelling and cheering the sight of the soldiers. They were so excited that she didn’t want one of them to fall off in their glee, so she admonished them firmly to stop jumping around, which they mostly did. Caius was always the one to push the limits with his mother and he stopped jumping up and down for a few seconds before resuming. Isobeau frowned and he caught her glare and stopped again. But all of that discipline evaporated when they spied Atticus enter.
Riding a new bright red Belgian charger he had purchased the year before, Atticus thundered into the inner ward wearing full armor, which was unusual for him considering he hated armor. Still, he wore it to please his wife who insisted upon the protection, and he didn’t want her to see he’d been riding most of the time without it. Therefore, he pretended to like it, and wore it, as he drew his charger to a halt. Once he did that, the boys flew off the steps and rushed their father.
Atticus was barely off the horse when two wet children came crashing into him. Thrilled to see his boys again, he bent over and picked them up, accepting enthusiastic hugs from them.
“Cai!” he said happily. “Leo! Great Bleeding Jesus, you have both grown a foot since I last saw you. What on earth is your mother feeding you?”
“Anything they will eat,” Isobeau said as she walked up on her husband and her sons. She smiled broadly at the man when their eyes met; instantly, love and comfort and joy filled the air between them. “Your sons eat as much as you do.”
Atticus laughed softly as he set the boys to their feet. “That is good to know,” he said, peering at them strangely. “Why are they all wet?”
“Because they were filthy and your father doused them in the rain barrel,” Isobeau chuckled. Atticus came to her and gentlytook her in his arms. She gazed up into the face she loved so well. “Welcome home, my love. We are glad to have you back.”
Atticus studied her beautiful face, the emotion of the moment bringing a lump to his throat. “I have missed you every second of every day,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her sweetly. “It was torture without you. How are you feeling? Are you well?”
Isobeau nodded, rubbing at her big belly. “We are both quite well,” she said. “The physic says we will have to wait only another week or two to meet our new son, so you have arrived home just in time. I did not want to have this baby without you.”
He smiled, putting his big gloved hand on her protruding belly. “I am glad you did not,” he said. “What have we decided to name this one?”
“Ares,” Solomon said. “You promised I could name this child, Atticus. His name will be Ares.”
Atticus grinned at his father, reaching out to touch the man on his hairy face. “So I did,” he said. He let go of his wife and reached for his daughter, still in Solomon’s arms. “Give me my baby, Papa. I’ve not seen her in weeks.”
Solomon handed over his granddaughter, who was more than happy to go to her father. Atticus kissed the child on the cheek. “I have missed all of you so much,” he said, patting Leonidus on the head because the child was demanding his attention. “Shall you take me inside the hall now? I am famished. You must feed your father.”
The boys began tugging on him, pulling him towards the great hall. Isobeau and Solomon followed.
“What is the world like these days, Atticus?” Solomon asked. “Where have you been?”
