The Warrior Poet (51 page)

Alicia was certain
that was the truth. It made her far more wary to enter the grounds of Eden,
knowing she would be facing a shamed adversity.
 
Then, her focus moved to the great stone
fortress of Eden which was now looming larger than life in the near distance.
After a moment, she shook her head.

“I have never been
so close to this place and not had a hail of arrows raining down upon me,” she
said softly. “It seems very strange.”

Gaithlin turned to
look at her. “Are you afraid?”

Alicia thought a
moment. “Afraid? Nay,” she said. “But as I gaze upon this castle, I see
generations of de Gares who have died because of it, your father included.
So many deaths.
It does not seem right to enter the gates in
peace. I feel I should be entering the gates as a conquering hero to justify
all of the de Gare dead.
 
I cannot help
wonder what your father would say.”

Gaithlin could see
up ahead that Christian and Quinton had come to a halt.
 
Their conversation was evidently over and
Christian’s gaze was seeking out his wife, wandering back with the group and
speaking with a woman in armor.
   
He
lifted a hand to Gaithlin and she waved back.
 
But before she went to him, she turned to her mother.

“I would hope that
Father would be happy,” she said quietly. “I believe he only wanted peace as
well.
 
Even if he did not and his
thoughts were much the same as Jean St. John’s… I
choose
to believe he was fighting for something more than just an old family feud. I
choose to believe Papa wanted peace, after all.
 
Isn’t that truly the only thing worth fighting for?”

Gaithlin left her
mother with that thought. Alicia watched her daughter as she made her way to her
husband, falling into his embrace, something that seemed so natural and warm
between them.
 
 
Even though he was the hated Demon, it did her
heart good to see her daughter so very happy.
  
It was evident in everything about her.

Alicia’s thoughts
returned to Alex de Gare, the proud and stubborn man she had married.
 
He’d always had a big soft spot when it came
to his daughter. Once he had overcome the over the shock of his daughter
marrying into the House of St. John, she was sure he would have been happy for
Gaithlin, too.

Still… the thought
of Alex’s reaction when he realized his son-in-law was none other than the
Demon of Eden made her smile.

EPILOGUE

One
year later

“Push, Gaithlin,”
Alicia encouraged. “He is almost here. Give us another big push!”

Squatting on a
birthing stool in the massive bedchamber she shared with her husband at Eden,
Gaithlin was exhausted and in pain.
 
Having gone into labor with her first child around sunset, she had spent
the entire night rolling with contractions until dawn.
 
Now, as the sun peeked over the eastern
horizon, the head of her child was pushing his way into the world.
 

But it was
excruciating work.
 
Sweaty and in agony,
she gripped the stool as her maid servants held the skirt of her shift up and
away from the work going on below her waist.
 
Alicia had been with her daughter throughout her pregnancy and was now
delivering her grandchild.
 
It was an
exciting, thrilling, and terrifying moment.
 
The baby’s red head was just starting to make an appearance and Alicia
was seized with joy.

“One more
push
, Gaithlin,” she said soothingly, rubbing her daughter’s
quivering thigh.
 
“He is ready to come
but you must push hard with your next pain. Can you do this?”

Gaithlin’s hair,
wet with perspiration, hung in her face.
 
She grunted and groaned. “I do not have a choice,” she snapped. “Can you
not just pull the bloody baby out of me?”

Alicia fought off a
grin at her daughter’s raging. “I can pull him if you push a little more,” she
said. “Push again, sweetheart.
One more time!”

Another pain seized
Gaithlin and she grunted loudly as she bore down, pushing with all of her might
at the child who had been seemingly stuck for the past hour or two.
 
He was a large baby and quite unwilling to be
born, but Gaithlin had other ideas.
 
She
would not let her son gain the upper hand; at least, not yet.
 
With a groan that turned into a scream, she
pushed as hard as she could and the baby’s head slipped forth.
  
Alicia grabbed hold, working the child until
a shoulder popped out.
 
Then, with
another great push, the very fat baby slithered out into his grandmother’s waiting
hands.

“He is here!”
Alicia cried
,
wiping off his face and mouth as an old
serving woman rubbed the baby’s feet. “Gaithlin, it is a boy! You have a son!”

Collapsed against
her maids, Gaithlin let out a cry of joy and relief about the time the baby began
to mewl like a kitten.
 
When Alicia
rubbed the baby’s back vigorously, the child let out a substantial wail.
 
 
As
Gaithlin tried to find the strength to sit up and gain a better look at her
son, the door to the chamber flew open.

Christian was
standing in the doorway, his handsome face pale and his eyes wide.
 
“I heard a cry,” he said breathlessly. “Has
my son arrived? How is my wife?”

Gaithlin giggled at
her husband’s panicked reaction and strained to look over her shoulder at him.
“He is here,” she said. “Your son has healthy lungs.”

Even though
Christian had heard the initial cry of the baby, still, it was a bit shocking
to realize that the child they had longed and prayed for had finally
arrived.
 
He even swayed a little but
Quinton, standing behind him in the corridor outside of the chamber, gave him a
little shove into the room.

“Go see him, Papa,”
he teased.

Christian staggered
into the room, drawing close to his wife, still seated on the birthing stool,
and collapsing on his knees beside her.
 
He didn’t even look at the baby; the first thing he did was
throw
his arms around Gaithlin and bury his face in her
chest.
 
He hugged her tightly, tears
coming to his eyes in joy and relief, as she wrapped weary arms around him.

“Are you well?” he
asked, his voice muffled by her shift.

Gaithlin
lay
her cheek on the top of his head. “Well enough,” she
muttered, watching her mother hand the baby off to a servant so the woman could
deliver the afterbirth. “I cannot say I would be willing to do this again anytime
soon.”

Christian laughed
softly, lifting his head to kiss her tenderly. “And I cannot say I would be
willing to endure the wait again anytime soon,” he said. “But thank you. From
the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

Emotional,
exhausted, Gaithlin wept softly as Christian kissed her lips and cheeks.
 
Her mother was still working between her legs
and Christian deliberately kept his gaze on Gaithlin’s face as the woman
finished delivering the afterbirth and sent it away with one of the maids.
 
Then she took her grandson from the servant,
handing the screaming, flailing infant to her daughter.

Both Gaithlin and
Christian cooed with awe as Alicia placed the baby on Gaithlin’s chest.
 
As Gaithlin held him tightly, Christian
timidly touched the little hand.

“He is so large,”
Christian said, grinning. “And look; he has blond hair.”

Gaithlin was busy
inspecting the mewling little face but noticed the thick mat of fine hair,
drying blond in the warmth of the room. “He will look just like you,” she said.
“Already I can see it.”

Christian had never
been so moved by any single event in his life as he gazed at his wife and
son.
 
His big hand rested gently against
the baby’s soft back as he took a moment to absorb the joy he was feeling. He
could hardly believe it.
 

“Put him on the
nipple, Gaithlin,” Alicia said, hovering over the little family. “See if he
will feed.”

Obediently, and
with Christian’s help, Gaithlin pulled back the top of her shift to expose an
engorged breast.
 
She put the baby
against her nipple, cooing to him gently, until the baby latched on and began
to suckle furiously.
 
Alicia had her
hands on the baby’s head, admiring him just as Gaithlin and Christian
were,
when a soft voice called to her.

“Alicia,” it was
Quinton. She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, beckoning to
her.
 
“Come to me. Let them alone for a
few moments.”

With a smile and a
kiss to the top of Christian’s head, Alicia went to Quinton, taking his
outstretched hand and accepting a kiss to her cheek.
 
Over the past year, Quinton had taken quite a
liking to Alicia, a lovely older woman, and a gentle romance was in the
making.
 
It had done Alicia’s heart a
world of good as well and she was learning not to hold back her feelings.
 
As she stood with Quinton in the doorway,
watching Gaithlin and Christian with their newborn, she felt a tug on her
skirts.

Malcolm stood next
to her, trying to get her attention; over the past year, he had filled up and
grown taller and was now almost at her shoulder height.
 
He was quick, intelligent, loving and
humorous, and spent most of his time with Alicia at Winding Cross as lord of
the castle.
 
He had become an integral
part of all of their lives, especially Alicia’s, and she smiled down at the
young boy she loved as much as if he was her own flesh and blood.
 
With her daughter and her husband living
mostly at Eden, Malcolm had been a welcome addition to Alicia’s lonely life.

“You have a new
brother, Malcolm,” she said, running a hand over his bristly hair. “What do you
think about that?”

Malcolm shrugged as
he looked into the warm chamber where Gaithlin and Christian were giggling
softly over the infant. “He’s just a bairn,” he sniffed.
“I
canna play wif’ him.”

Alicia and Quinton
laughed softly. “You will be able to when he gets a little older,” Alicia told
him. “Would you like to go in and see him?”

Malcolm shook his
head, frowning. “I’m hungry.”

Quinton put his
hand on the lad’s shoulder and turned him around for the stairs that led down
to the great hall below. “Come along, young man,” he said. “Let us find you
something to fill that bottomless stomach of yours.
 
I believe Jasper is down in the hall right
now, is he not?”

Malcolm nodded
eagerly. “He’s fixin’ weapons. He told me I could help.”

“Then we shall go
down and see him.”

Malcolm gladly went
with Quinton, a man he truly adored.
 
Jasper,
after having spent several weeks in the vault of Eden, had eventually come to
terms with the new order of Eden and Winding Cross, and Christian had
eventually released him.
 
The man was a
knight, pure and simple, and as always did as he was told.
  
If the Demon told him to accept the peace
with Winding Cross, then he would.
 
He
was still rather edgy but, oddly enough, he had Gaithlin had formed a bond
because she refused to let the man intimidate her and Jasper, in his own way,
had learned to respect that.
  
He was
back to being one of the family, and Christian and Quinton were grateful.

Alicia ended up
following Malcolm and Quinton down into the hall, leaving Gaithlin and
Christian alone with the baby.
  
The
infant had stopped nursing and now lay peacefully sleeping against his mother’s
chest.
 
Christian continued to gently
stroke the baby’s back, touching him as if to confirm that his son had truly
arrived.
 
He still could hardly believe
it.

“He has the shape
of my father’s head,” he murmured, touching the baby’s skull.
“Soft and egg-shaped.”

Gaithlin giggled.
“And he has my father’s nose,” she said. “I wonder what your father would say
when he looked at his new grandson and saw his old adversary’s nose squarely on
his face?”

Christian snorted.
“He would rage for the first five minutes,” he said,” and then he would pick
the baby up and tell him how wonderful he was and what greatness he expected
from him.”

“Did he do that to
you?”

Christian nodded
firmly. “Indeed he did. Notice that I listened to him.”

Gaithlin reached
out, touching his cheek sweetly. “Of course you did,” she murmured. “Little
Alexander will be a fitting legacy for his great father.”

Christian looked at
the baby cradled against his wife’s breast. “You realize that people will call
him the Demon’s Spawn or something like that,” he sighed. “My son will have
quite a reputation to live up to.”

Gaithlin gazed down
at the infant slumbering so peacefully. “He is the link of two great houses,”
she whispered. “He is the culmination of all that is great and wonderful from
my family and from yours.
 
Mayhap, in a
sense, he is his own legacy, an example of the new future between Winding Cross
and Eden.”

Christian nodded,
laying his head against Gaithlin’s shoulder, looking his son in the face.
 
It was such a handsome little face.
  
Then he lifted his head to kiss his wife on
the lips, feeling the same surge of passion and adoration he had felt from the
very first kiss they shared. More than ever, she was everything to him, a love
that could only be dreamt of in men’s wildest dreams.

“
We
are the future,” he murmured, kissing
her again. “And I have never in my life looked forward to anything more than I
look forward to spending my life with you.”

Gaithlin’s hand was
on his cheek as he nuzzled her face, her neck.
 
She closed her eyes, savoring the love that they shared. It was as much
a part of her as the blood that flowed through her veins.
 
When his mouth came close to hers, she kissed
him deeply.

“I love you, my
Demon.”

“And I love you,
enemy wife.”

She grinned, losing
herself in his tender kisses and sweet touches.

The baby slept
right through it.

‘He
is already greatness;

The shining sun of a thousand souls, the happy making of
a thousand memories.

This
child, this son, named for two great houses;

May
he always know his legacy, and may he always be loved

Until the end.’

~Chronicles
of Christian St. John

Vl. XIII, p. XXI