Beneath a Midnight Moon (31 page)

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Authors: Amanda Ashley

BOOK: Beneath a Midnight Moon
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Hadj immediately went upstairs to turn down Kylene’s bed and lay out her nightclothes, while Teliford lit a fire in the hearth. Parah went out to look after Hardane’s horse. Nan hurried into the kitchen to brew a pot of strong black tea.
“Where’s Carrick?” Sharilyn asked anxiously.
“He stayed on Renick’s ship,” Hardane replied, and after settling Kylene in one of the big chairs beside the fireplace, he took his mother aside and quickly related all that had happened.
Sharilyn looked thoughtful as she studied Kylene’s face. “Is she all right?”
Hardane shrugged. “I don’t know. She hasn’t said a word since we left the ship.” But maybe that wasn’t so strange, after all she’d been through.
“And Carrick?” Sharilyn asked.
“I think he needs you.”
Sharilyn glanced at Kylene again. Dared she leave the girl to go to her husband? And yet, how could she stay? She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain, the anguish, Carrick must be feeling. Taking Selene’s life must have been like destroying a part of himself.
“Go,” Hardane said. “He shouldn’t be alone. And he’ll want you there beside him when he resumes the throne.”
“He was right,” Sharilyn mused. “He was right all along.”
“About what?”
“When he asked me to marry him, he remarked that maybe it wasn’t your sons at all, but our marriage, that would forge a lasting peace between our countries.”
“It would seem he was right, mother mine. Because of your marriage to Carrick, peace will come to Argone and Mouldour far sooner than anyone expected.”
Sharilyn smiled. “And my grandsons will be able to grow up and rule in a land blessed with peace.”
“You’d best go now,” Hardane said. “Carrick sails with the dawn tide.”
“He’ll wait for me,” Sharilyn said with a knowing smile.
Hardane grinned. “So, the bond is already forming.”
Sharilyn nodded. “And you, my son, may soon have a little brother.”
Hardane stared after his mother as she left the hall, but there was no time to ponder her words. Sweeping Kylene into his arms, he carried her upstairs.
A tub filled with scented water awaited her. A cozy fire crackled in the hearth. The covers had been turned down, and a hot brick had been placed at the foot of the bed to warm it. A pot of tea and a plate of honey bread sat on a tray by the bedside.
Kylene stood quiescent as Hardane undressed her, then lifted her into the tub. Gently, he washed her, his gaze lingering on her breasts as he imagined his sons suckling there.
When he looked up, he saw that she was crying. Her tears, as silent as the night, filled him with pain.
Lifting her from the tub, he dried her off, and then, wrapping her in a blanket, he sat beside the hearth with her in his arms.
And still the tears came.
Feeling helpless, he stroked her hair while she cried, shedding bitter tears for the sister who had hated her so much that she had tried to kill her, weeping for the father who had sacrificed one daughter to save another.
Attuned as he was to her every thought, the depths of her sorrow pierced Hardane’s very soul.
He held her all through the night, until her body’s need for rest overcame her grief and she fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 51
Kylene gazed into the darkness, her lips pressed together to still the cry that rose in her throat.
She was in his arms and nothing could hurt her. She repeated the litany until the spasm passed. How long, she wondered, how many hours had passed since the first twinge awoke her? How long had it been since that first mild twinge turned into claws that threatened to tear her apart?
She gasped as another pain knifed through her, sharper than any of the others.
“Kylene?” Hardane awoke immediately. “What’s wrong?”
In the grip of a strong contraction, she could only grasp his arm.
“Kylene?”
“It . . . it hurts.”
“I know,” he said. And he did know. He could feel it, the pain that started low in her back, gathering in intensity as it swept forward.
“When did it start?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
She groaned softly, certain she was going to die. She felt Hardane’s hands gently turning her on her side, felt his strong fingers begin to knead the tension from her back and shoulders.
When the contraction was over, he slid out of bed and lit a fire in the hearth. Then, giving a tug on the bell pull, he summoned Hadj, instructing her to fill a pot with water, to bring Kylene a cup of watered wine.
When that was done, he returned to Kylene. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his, felt her body tense as another contraction ripped through her.
There was a knock at the door, and then Hadj entered the room. She placed the pot of water on the hearth to warm, then handed Hardane a small cup of wine.
“Shall I stay, my lord?” she asked, trying not to stare at Kylene, who was writhing on the bed.
“No. Send Teliford after Druidia.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Kylene clutched at his arm. “You won’t leave me?”
“No, lady.”
He brushed a wisp of hair from her brow, felt the shudders that racked her body as the pains grew stronger. Connected by the bond between them, his own body tensed as her pain communicated itself to him.
“Don’t be afraid, Kylene,” he murmured, wondering how she could endure such pain. “Everything will be all right, I promise you.”
She gazed into his eyes, touched by the love and concern she saw there. She moaned as another pain knifed through her, saw her own agony mirrored in the depths of his eyes, felt the tremor that shook his body as her own convulsed.
For the next hour, he massaged her back, held her hands when the contractions grew unbearable. His voice soothed her fears; his touch spoke of love and caring.
Hadj arrived with the news that Druidia had gone to Chadray.
“Then summon the physician.”
“No!” Kylene shook her head. “I don’t want anyone but you. Please, Hardane. He frightens me.”
“Are you sure, lady? I’ve never delivered a baby.”
“I’m sure.”
Hardane glanced at Hadj, who shrugged.
“It won’t be long now, I’m thinking,” Hadj remarked. “I’ll go fetch some fresh linens.”
Hardane nodded. Of all the times for his mother to be gone, he mused bleakly. He’d never needed her more than now.
The next hour was the longest of his life. He felt her every pain, his heart echoed her every cry, as Kylene labored to bring his sons into the world.
Her fingernails raked his arms, leaving long bloody furrows, but he hardly felt the pain, so minor was it when compared to what she was suffering.
Like most men, he had never given much thought to the process of birth. A man spilled his seed in mindless pleasure, but it was reaped in a river of pain and blood. It was beyond comprehension that his mother had endured such agony eight times.
It was near dawn when the first infant, tiny and red-faced, slid into his hands. Hardane’s eyes were damp with unshed tears as he cut the cord and handed the child to Hadj, who tied a bit of red ribbon around one tiny wrist, identifying it as the firstborn. A short time later, his second son entered the world, its tiny fists flailing the air.
As he gathered the afterbirth into a pail to be buried later, Hardane felt a sense of awe, of reverence, not only for the miracle of birth, but for the woman who had walked through the shadow of death to bring new life into the world.
With brisk efficiency, Hadj changed the bed linens, then bathed and swaddled the infants.
When that was done, she offered Kylene a glass of warm goat’s milk and gave Hardane a cup of strong wine. Then, with a last glance at the new parents, she left the room.
Kylene smiled wearily as Hardane sat on the edge of the bed, a baby in each arm. Her heart swelled with such love and tenderness it couldn’t be contained. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she gazed at her husband and sons.
“They’re beautiful, Kylene,” Hardane murmured. “You’re beautiful.”
She held out her arms and he handed her one of the twins, watching as she carefully inspected the baby from the top of its head to the soles of its feet, marveling over the thatch of thick black hair, counting each tiny finger and toe.
When she’d made sure the baby was perfect, she took the other one and did the same thing. They were identical. Perfect in every way.
“What shall we name them?” Hardane asked, thinking he’d never seen anything more lovely than Kylene as she sat against the pillows, a child nuzzling her breast.
“I thought we’d name the firstborn Kray, after your father.”
“He would have liked that,” Hardane murmured. “And the other?”
“After my father?”
“Kray and Carrick.” Hardane nodded his approval, then grinned as the child in his arms began to cry. “I think this one’s hungry, too.”
“Here, give him to me.”
It took some maneuvering, but in a few moments she had a child at each breast.
Kylene grinned up at her husband, happier than she’d ever been in her life.
“Perhaps we’ll have a daughter next year,” she mused.
Hardane looked stricken, and then he shook his head. “Nay, lady, I don’t think I could endure such agony again.”
Kylene grinned at him. “If birthing were left to the men, the race would have ended long ago.”
It was true, he thought. He’d rather face an army with only his bare hands to defend himself than vicariously suffer the pangs of childbirth again.
“I love you, my lord wolf,” Kylene said quietly.
“And I love you, lady, more than you can imagine,” he replied, and knew he’d ask nothing more of life than to share it with this woman who had filled his heart and soul with love and laughter.
Epilogue
Kylene sat on the grassy bank, watching Hardane and her twin sons splash in the river’s shallow depths.
Two years had passed since the Interrogator’s death. Two years of peace and happiness.
In that time, she’d seen all her dreams come true. Her father was happily married to Sharilyn and they were expecting their first child in the fall. She had met her sisters and their families. To her delight, she had eleven nieces and nephews, and three cousins by marriage.
Best of all, she was pregnant again. The child was due any day. She knew Hardane hoped for another son, but Kylene knew in her heart that it was a daughter with hair as black as night and eyes as gray as a winter sky.
She smiled as Hardane and the boys scrambled up the bank toward her. Her sons flung themselves into her arms, showering her with water and kisses, exclaiming over the monstrous fish their father had almost caught with his bare hands. And then, too filled with energy to sit still, they ran off to the woods to look for lizards and squirrels and whatever else they could find.
Shaking the water from his hair, Hardane sat down on the grass beside her.
“How do you feel?” he asked as he placed one hand over her swollen girth.
“Fine.”
“No pains yet?”
“No.”
She smiled up at him, touched, as always, by the love and concern in the depths of his eyes. The bond between them had grown stronger in the last two years, so that she often felt as if a part of herself was missing when he was not nearby.
Kylene let her fingertips glide over his cheek. “Do you think
you’re
ready?”
Hardane grunted softly, remembering how her pains had become his during the birth of their sons.
“I’m ready,” he said gruffly, and knew he’d walk through the fires of Gehenna if it was what she desired.
Gently, he pressed kisses to her forehead, to the tip of her nose, to each cheek, and then, to her lips.
“I promised to love you for all time,” he murmured, “in joy or sadness . . .”
“In good times and bad,” Kylene added, threading her fingers through his hair.
“In happiness and pain,” Hardane finished.
“I love you,” she murmured.
“And I love you,” he replied.
Lifting her to her feet, he drew her into his arms and kissed her with all the love in his soul, and then, hand in hand, they walked toward the woods, drawn by the happy laughter of their sons.
A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR
Amanda Ashley is one of those rare birds—a California native. She’s lived in Southern California her whole life and loves it (except for the earthquakes). She and her husband share a home with a fluffy Pomeranian named Lady, a tortoise named Buddy, and a wild sparrow named Tweety.
 
Amanda and her alter ego, Madeline Baker, have written over 60 books and 8 novellas, many of which have appeared on various bestseller lists, including the
New York Times
Bestseller list, the Waldenbooks Bestseller list, and the
USA Today
list. Not bad for someone who started writing just for the fun of it.
 
You can visit Amanda’s Web site at
www.amandaashley.net
.

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