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. Sweating 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 and 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
* THE END *