Season of Honor by Alexa Aston

Author:Alexa Aston
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2019-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

DARALYS AWOKE WITH a dull ache in the small of her back. A heaviness had settled over her and she didn’t know if she possessed the strength to rise from the pallet that she’d shared with Griselda. Dreams of her hostess had peppered the hours of the night and she’d seen Griselda from a young age until now. She supposed it was because of the close proximity of the woman as they’d slept. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept beside anyone, not even as a child.

Her mind still raced with the images of Griselda and all she’d learned about the woman who’d provided her shelter. Poor Griselda had led a hard life and it would only become more difficult in the months ahead.

She wondered if she should share what she’d learned with the old woman.

The door opened and Griselda entered. Daralys watched her through slitted eyes as she set the bucket down and stirred the embers of the fire. After another trip, Griselda returned with fresh wood and added it to the fire.

Pushing herself up, Daralys said, “Good morn to you.”

“And to you,” her hostess said briskly. “’Tis a cold day. It snowed during the night.”

“You said Kinwick is half a day’s ride from here?”

“Aye, if you galloped the entire way. You’re on the far north edge of Winterbourne lands. It will take you longer to reach your destination because of your condition. You’ll need to walk your horse. A hard ride would bring on your labor.” Griselda looked her over. “As it is, you may not reach Kinwick before you give birth. Mayhap, you should stay with me.”

“Thank you for your kind offer but I must press on. It’s important that I arrive at Kinwick before the babe comes.” Why, Daralys couldn’t say. It was more a feeling that filled her. The certainty that her babe must come on Kinwick lands, though she’d never even visited the great estate.

“Then it’s best you eat something before you go,” Griselda proclaimed.

Daralys excused herself and wrapped her cloak around her before going outside to relieve herself. It concerned her when a clump of thick mucus came out, tinged with both brown and red. She wondered if it meant the babe would come soon and sent a quick prayer to Heaven, asking for strength and the Virgin’s guidance.

Griselda was right. The rising sun shone across a sea of white, snow blanketing the ground where there’d been none yesterday. Fortunately, the wind of last night had died down and the air was still in the early morning light.

When she returned, she saw Griselda had scooped up the last of the stew. Daralys ate quickly, eager to be on the road again. Tomorrow was Christmas. Something about the day spoke to her.

“I don’t have much,” Griselda said, interrupting her thoughts.

Daralys watched her tie a small loaf of bread into a cloth. Before she could say anything, the old woman pressed it into Daralys’ hands, their skin touching. Griselda gasped at the contact, clutching Daralys’ wrist, and then moaned.

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