Epilogue

Seven months had passed with the fleetness of time that happens only when one is truly happy with their lives and everything in it. The village people had prospered under Lukas’ leadership, crops had been plentiful and the darkness that had seemed to cover the area had lifted. There were still the minor dissents among the people, but Lukas, with his beautiful wife at his side, handled each and every one with a wisdom that seemed beyond his years.

At times, he still felt his father’s presence in the castle, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. No, with the destruction of the amulet and the book, it was as if Jourick was now at rest and wanted Lukas to know. Lukas could forgive his father, having felt the draw of the amulet himself in those few moments when it had whispered its evil to him. The promises it had made were hard to ignore, its appeal extremely hard to deny.

And Jourick hadn’t had Danielle to help him fight that evil.

The days had grown long, the suns setting later and later as the sowing season passed with the bustle of ever-present chores. Danielle had blossomed, her body maturing and growing with the infant who was being nurtured inside of her. She’d grown clumsy, now in her last month, and more apt to sit back and rest then roam as she had once loved.

She was sitting in her chair at the table, Lukas in the Lord’s chair next to her when the first pain struck her during the breaking of the fast. The pain was intense in strength and duration, surprising her. She barely stifled the gasp that came to her lips but knew her wily-eared husband had heard it anyway.

“The baby?” he asked, concern in his jade gaze.

“Yes, but it is just a first pain, my love. We shall wait to see if there are more.” She ran her hand over his full black hair, raising her lips for his kiss.

Instead of the kiss she had expected, he swooped her up in his arms and called for Jasper. When the older man arrived in the dining hall, Danielle was fighting with Lukas.

“Let me down, Lukas!” she said heatedly.

“You need to be in bed, Danielle.” Lukas turned and started towards the stairs once more. “Jasper, send to the village for Augustine. Danielle has started her labour.”

A blush suffused her face as Lukas made the announcement. “Jasper, tell this oaf that it could be hours yet, and I don’t need to be bedridden for all of it.”

Lukas glared at Danielle as Jasper burst out laughing. “She is right, Lord Lukas. First babies come when they will. It could be hours.”

It was. Fourteen hours had passed, and the pains had grown stronger, wringing moans of agony from Danielle. Lukas stayed by her side, letting her rest against his chest as her mother bustled around the room, preparing for the birth of her grandchild. He gently wiped the beads of sweat off of her skin, trying to stay calm as he dealt with her pain.

“Is it supposed to be thus?” he asked again, panic coloring his voice as another pain twisted through his precious wife’s stomach, turning the mound rock hard under his caressing hand. “Is she supposed to feel so much pain?”

“Yes, my lord, birthing is a messy and hard job, but my Danielle is up for the task.” She washed her hands in the hot water she’d prepared for the task then lifted the drape she’d set up over her daughter’s knees to check her progress.

“All goes well, my lord, never fear. It shouldn’t be much longer before your son is born.” She smiled shyly at the dark-haired noble who’d won her daughter’s heart and her husband’s respect.

“Oh,” Danielle moaned, feeling her body wrench and twist inside. A strange urge took her, an urge to bear down, to push the baby from her body. It was so strong, she couldn’t resist the need.

“Mother,” Danielle said, her voice shrill with pain, gasping as another contraction gripped her, seeming to come one on top of the other with no stop. “I want to push.”

Augustine went back to the end of the bed. She lifted the drape and made her preparations. “All right, daughter. On this next pain, you need to push. My lord, when she pushes let her hold your hand.” She smiled remembering when Danielle was born and how Harold had told all that Augustine had broken his fingers in her grip.

With a grunt and a cry that was almost of joy, Danielle pushed, feeling relief that it was almost over.

“Good, daughter. Very good.” Augustine reached between her daughter’s legs, turning the tiny infant as it emerged. A few more hard pushes and the baby was born, greeted with a groan of relief from its father and a sigh of happiness and exhaustion from its mother.

Danielle watched as her mother walked towards her, the baby held tenderly in her arms, while she crooned down at the infant.

“My lord,” Augustine announced solemnly though there was a sparkle in her eye. “You have a son.”

Lukas grinned, kissing his wife upon her cheek before carefully taking the baby from Augustine. His son’s face was red and wrinkled, his eyes closed tightly as he opened his tiny mouth to wail at the indignity that had been thrust upon him.

The howl he let loose had Lukas smiling and Danielle looking at her son with concern. It also had the white wolf, named Maricka by Danielle, scurrying out from where she’d been hiding under the bed to stare at the small bundle in her master’s arms.

“He’s beautiful, Danielle,” Lukas said, a note of awe in his tone as he beheld the miracle of his child.

Just as Danielle opened her mouth to reply, another pain ripped through her abdomen. Her words became a cry of pain, and Augustine hurried to the end of the bed, once more lifting the drape. “It is another child, my lord. We are doubly blessed. Push, my daughter.”

Within minutes, a little girl was born to the couple, arriving to the sound of her brother’s howling wail. Augustine swaddled the baby tightly and handed her to her exhausted daughter.

“Two babies, Danielle. What a wonderful gift. We shall celebrate in the village tonight.”

Danielle smiled at her mother, then stared down at the beautiful little girl who was lying contentedly in her arms. She was perfect, ten fingers, ten toes, with huge eyes of deep dark blue and the beginnings of down-fine golden hair. Danielle held out her other arm, and Lukas placed her son in it, amazed at how quickly he settled down once his mother held him, cooing to him gently. But maybe not so amazed, Lukas thought with a grin. He settled down when she held him, too, feeling the love she had for him in her every action.

Maricka pushed her nose under his hand, whining gently, and he patted her absently as he gazed at his family. He kissed Danielle’s cheek, watching as she blushed while her mother taught her the rudimentary skills of breast feeding.

“Have you names for them?” Augustine asked, helping Danielle with the tricky act of balancing the two newborns while they rooted hungrily at her breasts.

“Morgana for my mother,” Lukas said, staring at the golden-haired beauty who nursed contentedly at her mother’s breast. “And Alistair, for her father,” he said.

“Fine names, my lord. Strong names with good family roots.” She went to the foot of the bed and began the ritual of cleansing the new mother, then changed the sheets and helped Danielle burp her children.

The babies, having eaten, fell asleep, and Lukas put them together into the cradle he’d had made. He’d have to get a second one, but for now, they would sleep together as they had in their mother’s womb.

His heart swelled with love as he stared into the small cradle. His children, he thought. He slid his hand over Morgana’s hair, her skin soft, her hair wispy gold. Her small bow-shaped mouth pursed, and she let out a little squawk before calming back down.

Alistair stirred at his sister’s squawk, his arm moving as if he wanted to touch her. Lukas smiled, running the his hand over his son’s back. Something caught his eye, a dark shadow near his son’s neck. He stared at that shadow, seeing the shape with a sudden feeling of consternation. Pulling down the blanket slightly, he gasped. It was a birth mark, a small red stain on his son’s skin.

Its shape was that of the wolf.

THE END