Amari worried for her. She didn’t know much more healing than what one learned caring for children, but it couldn’t be good for someone Xydell’s age to be unconscious for so long.
The carriage rolled to a stop, followed by the creak of wood and the rattle of chain. “Sally-port, most like,” Roth noted.
The carriage rolled through the gate; Ussin’s voice echoed around them, as he shouted: “Keep an eye on those ruins. Watch for any movement. You two, keep watch on the road.”
The carriage door swung open.
“Lord High Baron,” Ussin began, then shouted “hey” as Yfin sprung out the door and pushed past him.
“Boy needed air, being cooped up,” Roth said calmly, moving even as Ussin sputtered a protest. “Shall we check the gatehouse?” He stepped down and offered a hand to Rosalind, who managed to look graceful as she scrambled to follow.
Orval grimaced as he struggled to stand. Amari leaned forward, reaching for him, and he took her hand. He glanced out the door as he got his balance, wrapping her hand in his long, warm fingers. “I could see if Ussin would take you and the babes back with him,” he offered quietly. “ I think it’s eating at him. If I begged—”
“No,” Amari held tight to him. “Our place is with you. We are far safer with you than in Satia’s hands.”
Orval nodded, gripping her just as tightly. “Keep the token close,” he whispered before ducking out after Roth. “Don’t even think of leaving those crates there,” he shouted. “Ussin, what is the meaning of this?”
He closed the door behind him, blocking the chill. Amari pulled her hand under her cloak and pressed her hand to her chest, missing his warmth. She drew a long, steadying breath as she listened to the shouts outside, and the horses stamping, their harnesses ringing as Orval and Ussin argued.
Dalan shifted in his swaddling and started to stir.
“Roth?” Orval demanded.
“Gatehouse can be secured,” came a distant shout.
“Very well,” Orval snapped. “Get your men to carry these crates and supplies in, quick like. Form a line andmove.”
Amari blinked at his tone, so sure and commanding.
“You heard the Lord High Baron,” Ussin bellowed. The pressure in Amari’s chest eased slightly. It had worked, Orval had won the day. A tiny triumph, but a triumph just the same.
The carriage door opened and Orval stuck his head in. “Have they roused?”
“Almost,” Amari said.
“Let’s get you inside, then.” Orval grimaced. “Cold and damp, but we can tuck you in a corner so you can nurse.” He looked at Xydell, who hadn’t once stirred. “Maybe Ussin will forget she’s in here?” he gave Amari a sly look. “Take her back with him?”
He was making light of it, but Amari wasn’t fooled. That little crease in his forehead told her that. “How bad is it?” she whispered.
“Not so bad. Cold and,” Orval looked away and swallowed hard, “empty.”
A memory of their old rooms filled her: cluttered shelves, glowing copper lamps, and the warmth of home. “We will fill it,” she whispered, and watched as his eyes went damp and his resolve returned.
He reached for Lara’s basket. Amari took up Dalan and accepted Orval’s help exiting the carriage. She got a brief glimpse of the snowy courtyard before she followed Orval through a heavy wooden door into the gatehouse. The guards stepped back to let her in.
The stone room was very large and very empty and very cold, with a dusty, unused smell. The only light came from the open door. There was a small stool by the cold hearth; Orval moved it to tuck her into a corner, out of the way.
“Best we can do for now,” he said, setting Lara’s basket on the floor.
“It’s fine,” she said. The stool rocked on its four legs as she settled in place but seemed sturdy enough.
“All right, then,” he said, and turned back to the guards. “Don’t just stand there,” he snapped. “There’s more to unload and we need to get the furniture inside.”
Amari set Dalan’s basket down and undid her lacings as Orval harangued the guards. Dalan’s eyes were wide open and he latched on quickly, sucking greedily. He was warm against her skin and the familiar tug on her nipple was reassuring. No matter what, babies needed to be fed…she wrinkled her nose…and changed.
“Orval, I’ll need that sack of nappies,” she said.
Orval nodded and squeezed through the door as the guards brought in more sacks and crates. He returned quickly, cheeks red with the cold, followed by men carrying their familiar, old kitchen table and chairs.
