Page 72 of Hold Fast

“Lodan.”

“Mary was in labor,” Una repeated, the ground feeling unsteady beneath her feet.

“I ken that now, lass. Cat tried to find me to tell me, but we kept missing one another.”

“I took Calman because he’s the only one I trust.”

“Did everything go… well?” His voice was husky as he spoke against her temple.

Una pressed her forehead against his chest, soaked from the rain and yet, impossibly, warm. Her head was swimming.

“Aye,” she said, her voice feeling miles away. And then she was weightless, falling, falling, spinning downward before the world went dark.

CHAPTER29

Aweek had passed since the birth of Lodan and Mary’s son, which also meant that a week had passed since Una had fainted dead away in his arms. It had planted a new seed of worry deep in his guts that was watered daily by the constant shower of his own panic. Una had insisted that she never got sick, and yet she had lost consciousness and collapsed like a boulder off a cliff. Had he not been there to catch her, she could have hit her head on a stone. She could have died. She— he couldn’t bear to finish the thought.

But Una had no sympathy for his nerves. She insisted upon checking in on Mary every day that week, which meant that Ewan had, in turn, insisted upon being the one to bring her. It didn’t matter that she had been right as rain after some bread and broth and tea. It did not matter that she had not fainted since. It didn’t matter that she insisted that she was fine. He could not convince himself to believe her.

He was distracted, delegating more and more of his tasks and losing focus because he couldn’t bear to go more than an hour without checking in on her. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that she was hale and healthy and that all was well. Yet the worry nagged at him, ever present and growing ever louder.

Since their handfast, Una had practiced her archery nearly every day. He remembered being delighted when she told him she wanted a place to practice. He had set up a permanent target for her in the open green space outside the curtain wall. It was far enough away that there was no danger of an unsuspecting person walking in front of her but close enough that the guards atop the wall could keep watch over her.

Since she had fainted, however, Ewan wanted her nowhere near a bow and arrow. Or any sharp objects for that matter. It had been easy enough with the weather being as poor as it had been. The driving rain from the day of Mary’s labor had carried on for a week, drenching everything and turning the courtyard and roads into muck. But yesterday had been dry, and when Ewan woke that morning to see the sun striking out from behind the mountains into a cloudless sky, he cursed to himself because there would be no stopping Una today.

He wondered if he could keep her in bed all day, but then he remembered the mountain of correspondence that had piled high on his desk that week and the fact that he had promised to speak with a group of farmers about a new plan for better drainage in the fields.

It was not uncommon for him to rise and break his fast before she did. Una did not sleep late as a general rule, but nor did she wake before dawn as he did, restless and unable to go back to sleep. In fact, once Una fell asleep, an avalanche could bury the keep and she would not wake up. He rose and broke his fast in the Great Hall before going to meet with the farmers. The meeting took far longer than he anticipated and then there had been more things requiring his immediate attention.

It was late afternoon by the time he rode around the wall to where his instincts told him Una would be practicing. As he rode Calman around the corner, he saw her. A light breeze blew the loose tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid. She stood tall and strong, shoulders pulled back with the bowstring, which she released, sending an arrow flying into the dead center of the target where it joined a cluster already there.

She strode to the target and yanked them free, spotting him as she turned. Even from a distance, he saw the smile that spread wide across her face. Those smiles came more easily to her with every passing day since they’d been handfasted.

He dismounted and walked Calman the rest of the way, not stopping until his chest nearly touched hers. She walked into him, having stowed the arrows in her belt quiver, and rested her head on his chest.

“How are you, Ewan?”

How was he? He was tired, hungry, and feeling as if a prize bull was sitting in the middle of his chest.

“I am well, mo cridhe. And you? How do you fare this day?”

Ewan couldn’t decide if her complexion was paler than usual. He did note the tiny pinpricks of sweat around her brow and across her nose. But perhaps she had been practicing for a while. Perhaps she had exerted herself.

She didn’t answer him right away, which did nothing for his worry. She began swallowing, and Ewan could see that, yes, in spite of the flush from the cold, she did look paler. Ewan took her face in his hands and lifted it to look closer.

“Are you well, Una?”

“Ewan, I… I…” she began, but wrenched her body to the side before vomiting violently onto the ground beside their feet.

“God’s bones, Una!” he exclaimed, jumping behind her, supporting her with one arm and grabbing her hair with the other as she heaved.

Standing shakily, Una dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, closing her eyes tightly as she gasped for air. Ewan whistled, and Calman hurried to his side.

“Hang on, Una. Christ,” he hissed under his breath. “Can you hold onto him until I can climb behind you?”

She nodded.

“Good lass.”