slipping off the worktable and approaching him. "It feels all wrong because you are going to be there. You should not go. I need you here." She glanced out the front of the shop towards the guards that waited in the gathering dark and then lowered her voice. " We need you here," she whispered, taking his hand and pressing it to her belly. "I fear for you not only as my husband, but as the father of your baby. What if something goes wrong?"
"It won't go wrong," Darrick began, reaching to embrace her, but she pushed him away.
"What if it does?" she demanded hoarsely, peering up into his face. "You cannot know ! How can you be so certain?"
Darrick looked at her, his face sweaty and tense in the furnace's red glow but his eyes softening. He smiled at her. "I know because of this, Bree," he said, moving his hand from her belly to the swell of her breast, covering her heart. The confidence in his voice both relieved and maddened her. "I know because of what we have right here, dear one. You feel it, do you not? Death has no power over that which we share. Wars are fought with brute instruments," he nodded towards the sword that still steamed in the water barrel. "Metal and blade, shields and armour, none of those things can stand against the world-changing weight of true love. What we have, wife, no sword can pierce."
Gabriella shook her head again slowly. "Poppycock and codswallop," she whispered.
His smile broadened, and his eyes twinkled. "That's your father talking," he chided. "Not you. You know the truth of my words."
She studied his face intently for a long moment and then broke away from his gaze. "No," she declared quietly. "No. I do not know what you know. I only know that I do love you. I do need you. And that if you go on this journey and some villain puts a sword between your ribs—"
"Rhyss was unarmed," Darrick interrupted, raising his chin. The mention of Rhyss's name was like a dark shiver in the air. "The beast struck her down in cold blood. She was defenceless. I shall not be. I shall be prepared to meet the enemy on my terms. And when I do, I shall visit my vengeance upon him. For both of us."
"Goethe is dead!" Gabriella cried, turning on her husband. "Whatever vengeance there was to be had, it is already satisfied! Rhyss is still gone ! And so might you be!" Her voice splintered on the last words. Darrick moved to her and caught her into his arms. She resisted, but only for a moment. He held her in the hot darkness of the shop, one hand clutched to the back of her head, pressing her to him. Finally, she shuddered and relaxed against him, annoyed to feel tears wetting her cheeks and soaking into his tunic.
"Gabriella," he said softly, "I must go on this journey. I must do my part, not only for the Kingdom, but for myself. You know this. I cannot allow Rhyss's death to go unpunished. The powers that caused it must pay, blood for blood."
He released her but gripped her shoulders gently. She looked up at him so that their noses touched. He drew a breath and went on. "Tomorrow morning, I shall take my leave and go to perform this duty of high honour. But Bree, I promise you this with all that I am… this is where my heart is. With you and with the baby in your womb. No matter what, I will return to you."
Gabriella looked up at him, her brow still knitted with worry. As she looked, however, her brow smoothed. The future was inevitable. He would go. And then, if his promise was true, he would return to her. There was nothing more she could do.
Nothing more except believe him.
The a rmy marched at dawn. It was a pearly grey morning, mostly obscured by a caul of low clouds. There was rain, but it was misty and sparse, beading greasily on the soldiers' helmets. Sir Ulric led the march on his black horse. Darrick followed in the rear, riding his own mount. He turned back to
"It won't go wrong," Darrick began, reaching to embrace her, but she pushed him away.
"What if it does?" she demanded hoarsely, peering up into his face. "You cannot know ! How can you be so certain?"
Darrick looked at her, his face sweaty and tense in the furnace's red glow but his eyes softening. He smiled at her. "I know because of this, Bree," he said, moving his hand from her belly to the swell of her breast, covering her heart. The confidence in his voice both relieved and maddened her. "I know because of what we have right here, dear one. You feel it, do you not? Death has no power over that which we share. Wars are fought with brute instruments," he nodded towards the sword that still steamed in the water barrel. "Metal and blade, shields and armour, none of those things can stand against the world-changing weight of true love. What we have, wife, no sword can pierce."
Gabriella shook her head again slowly. "Poppycock and codswallop," she whispered.
His smile broadened, and his eyes twinkled. "That's your father talking," he chided. "Not you. You know the truth of my words."
She studied his face intently for a long moment and then broke away from his gaze. "No," she declared quietly. "No. I do not know what you know. I only know that I do love you. I do need you. And that if you go on this journey and some villain puts a sword between your ribs—"
"Rhyss was unarmed," Darrick interrupted, raising his chin. The mention of Rhyss's name was like a dark shiver in the air. "The beast struck her down in cold blood. She was defenceless. I shall not be. I shall be prepared to meet the enemy on my terms. And when I do, I shall visit my vengeance upon him. For both of us."
"Goethe is dead!" Gabriella cried, turning on her husband. "Whatever vengeance there was to be had, it is already satisfied! Rhyss is still gone ! And so might you be!" Her voice splintered on the last words. Darrick moved to her and caught her into his arms. She resisted, but only for a moment. He held her in the hot darkness of the shop, one hand clutched to the back of her head, pressing her to him. Finally, she shuddered and relaxed against him, annoyed to feel tears wetting her cheeks and soaking into his tunic.
"Gabriella," he said softly, "I must go on this journey. I must do my part, not only for the Kingdom, but for myself. You know this. I cannot allow Rhyss's death to go unpunished. The powers that caused it must pay, blood for blood."
He released her but gripped her shoulders gently. She looked up at him so that their noses touched. He drew a breath and went on. "Tomorrow morning, I shall take my leave and go to perform this duty of high honour. But Bree, I promise you this with all that I am… this is where my heart is. With you and with the baby in your womb. No matter what, I will return to you."
Gabriella looked up at him, her brow still knitted with worry. As she looked, however, her brow smoothed. The future was inevitable. He would go. And then, if his promise was true, he would return to her. There was nothing more she could do.
Nothing more except believe him.
The a rmy marched at dawn. It was a pearly grey morning, mostly obscured by a caul of low clouds. There was rain, but it was misty and sparse, beading greasily on the soldiers' helmets. Sir Ulric led the march on his black horse. Darrick followed in the rear, riding his own mount. He turned back to
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