Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [187]
“A daughter, and both are fine,” Dallandra announced. “Dar, you can go up now.”
Without a single word, the prince raced across the room and bounded up the stairs. The servant smiled in a rather sentimental way and brought Dalla over a tankard of ale.
“The other women will be wanting a bite to eat, I’ll reckon. I’ll just be in the kitchen hut, cutting up cold meat and suchlike, if you need me.”
“My thanks.” Dalla watched him go, then turned and spoke in Elvish. “I don’t suppose you want to go see the child.”
“I was never that much interested in my own, to tell you the truth,” Rhodry answered in the same. “Not until they had teeth and a few words, anyway.”
“I’d forgotten that you had children.”
When she sat down next to him, Rhodry turned a little to face her. In the firelight, she could see the streak of silver gleaming in his hair.
“Four sons,” he said. “Four legitimate sons, and a daughter, who wasn’t. There may be others for all I know.”
When she made a sour face at him, he laughed, but mercifully it was a normal mirth.
“Neither of us are the kin-bound sort,” Dalla said. “You know, I left a child with Aderyn when I went into Evandar’s country. Loddlaen, his name was. I wonder what his Wyrd brought him?”
The expression on Rhodry’s face took her utterly aback. For a moment he stared, his mouth slack, then winced as if some old wound had stabbed him, and finally he looked away and stared into the fire.
“You know, don’t you?” she said. “And it wasn’t good.”
He merely nodded and took a long swallow of his ale.
“Rori, tell me.”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Dallandra considered, watching the flames leap against the chimney wall.
“I don’t,” she said at last. “Not the details, at least. Did he die violently?”
“I’m afraid so. It blasted near broke Aderyn’s heart.”
“It would have. He’s the one who loved the child.”
He cocked his head to one side, seemed to be waiting for her to ask more, but she found that she had no words, not even to frame questions. For a long while, they sat together, watching the fire, and neither of them spoke until the other women came down, all talking and laughing, to eat the meal the servant set out for them.
Although the birth went well, there was trouble of a different sort in the morning. Dalla had just come into the great hall when Polla swept down upon her, Ocradda bobbing in her wake.
“You’ve got to come speak to Carra,” the midwife snapped. “She won’t keep Elessi in the swaddling bands.”
“Indeed?”
“She says the child hates them. Utter nonsense. Babies need to feel secure, and besides, if she’s not wrapped, she’s likely to catch her death of cold. It’s drafty, this time of year.”
“And she insists on keeping the babe in bed with her, not in the cradle,” Ocradda added.
“At least that way she’ll be warm,” Dalla said. “My dear friends, Carra’s just following the elvish ways, her husband’s ways.”
That gave them pause, but for sake of peace, Dalla went with them to speak with Carra. She found Carra sitting up in bed, propped by pillows, and cuddling the sleeping baby. When Dallandra came over, Elessi opened her big yellow eyes, looked in the elven woman’s direction with a vastly solemn stare, then shut them again. Carra wasted no time.
“I won’t do it! She hates the bands, and she screams, and I won’t wrap her.”
“Very well then,” Dalla said. “Her father’s people don’t wrap their babies, after all, and no harm seems to come to them.”
“But Dalla!” Polla stepped forward. “Most babies need—”
“She isn’t most babies!” Carra snapped.
“Just so,” Dalla said.
Polla hesitated, considering her next move. All at once, Ocradda shrieked. Dalla spun round to find Evandar standing in the corner where the partition met the curve of the outer wall. Her hands clasped over her mouth, Ocradda stared in pure horror, but Carra merely watched, her eyes as solemn as the baby’s.
“My apologies,” Evandar said with a lazy grin. “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.” He bowed to the servingwoman, then to the midwife. “Good dames, consider me the child’s grandfather. In a way I am, as