Page 20 of MacAlister's Hope
“You do not ken that wee lassie as well as you think you do, even if she does honor you with her kiss.”
“Aye, she honors me, but I still say you do not ken her true strength of will. That one will do whatever is necessary to deliver your bairns and keep your wife well.”
“I think I ken the lass better after fourteen years than you do after a single sennight.”
Kieron shook his head. “You ken the lass she was—small, shy, yet wise beyond her years.”
Symon’s attention focused on Kieron for the first time that day.
“I ken the woman she has become,” Kieron finished.
“And what sort of woman is that?” Symon’s voice held a lethal edge, as if he sensed just how much Kieron knew Fia, the woman, but Kieron did not hesitate.
“I have seen her overcome her doubts. I have seen her stand up to Annis’s treachery.”
Symon went completely still. “Treachery?” he asked. “What has that woman done?”
Kieron told the chief the whole story, glad to distract Symon, if only for a little while.
“And you brought Annis back with you?”
“Aye. Fia thought it best if Lady Elena meted out the punishment. Even in her anger, Fia saw some hope that Annis might learn to be a better person with Elena’s guidance rather than Tavish’s ire.”
“Fetch her here.”
“Fia thought Lady Elena—”
Symon cut him off with a glare and Kieron spun to fetch the wench, determined to return before Fia could find him missing, for he did not want her to think he did not keep his word. He quickly located Annis in the great hall, filling her belly with hot porridge, and flirting with a young warrior.
“You chief requires your presence,” he said as he pulled her up from her bench and almost dragged her back up to the corridor to face Symon. He only wished Fia could see this. He shoved Annis ahead of him to face her chief.
Symon’s eyes were narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. Anger radiated off of him, making Kieron very glad he was not the focus of the man’s wrath.
“What do you have to say for your unworthy behavior?” Symon asked.
Kieron could see Annis’s back stiffen.
“Fia told you?” She mimicked the chief’s posture, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin. ’Twas not the reaction Kieron had expected from her. “She did not tell you everything, I wager.” She glared over her shoulder at Kieron and he could tell by the satisfied glint in her eyes that something was wrong. “Did she tell you,” she said as she slowly returned her attention to Symon, “that she lay like a wanton with that one?” She stabbed a thumb in his direction as Kieron’s breath stopped.
Hours later, Fia knelt on one side of the bed, ready to help Elena, while Mairi knelt on the other side, holding her mum’s hand in hers, pouring all the Lamont healing gift into her. The labor had taken a toll on all of them, but no one, least of all Elena, had given up.
The midwife did not look up from her position between Elena’s knees, but said, “We are almost there, my lady. I think one more contraction will do the trick. Prepare yourself.”
Elena responded with a loud groan as she pushed with all the strength left in her. Fia pushed upon her stomach to help, and at last the first bairn was pulled from his exhausted mother. The mid-wife quickly handed the bairn to one of her apprentices, and within minutes the second one slid free of her mother, and was handed to the second helper. Neither bairn cried, nor moved.
“Mum?” Mairi said, her voice tight but steady. “They are born.”
“Just a little more, Elena. We are almost done,” Fia said quietly to the glassy-eyed woman, with as much encouragement as she could manage. “One more push.” Elena managed a weak effort and collapsed but it was enough to deliver the afterbirth.
Fia looked from Elena to where the bairns still lay silent and unmoving. “Mairi, you stay with your mum. I must see to the bairns.” Just as she said that there was a weak cry from one of the babes, and an answering murmuring from the apprentice who was cleaning him.
“What is it?” asked Mairi.
“A wee laddie,” the apprentice said, bringing the bairn to cuddle next to his mum.
“And the other,” Elena asked, her voice hoarse and weighed down with exhaustion.
“A girl,” the second apprentice said, but did not look up from where she was not-so-gently rubbing the child’s blue-tinged skin.
