Page 35 of Lion and the Lamb: Easter

“What’s happening in there?” asked Drew.

“Believe me, it’s nothing you want to see,” said Lionel, wincing as his sister screamed out again, the same time as thunder shook the walls.

“It’s getting worse out there, my lord,” reported Raff, still looking out the arrow slit at the storm.

“And in there, too,” said Lionel, hearing his sister crying now. Rachael was urging her to push.

“I’m going in there,” said Winifred, opening the door and disappearing inside before Lionel could stop her.

“Me, too,” said Drew, starting to follow.

“Nay, you’ll stay here with me,” said Lionel, grabbing Drew by the collar, pulling him back and closing the door.

“I’m scared,” said Drew. “I want to be with my mother.”

“Believe me, if you think the storm is frightening, the last place you want to be is in there. Raff, come take the boy down to the great hall for a game of draughts to ease his mind.”

“Aye, my lord,” said Raff, hurrying over.

“Draughts? That’s a lady’s game,” said Drew, making a face. “I want to play chess.”

“You know how?” asked Lionel.

“Of course, I do. My sister, Winifred, taught me,” he said, raising his chin proudly.

“It figures,” said Lionel with a chuckle, since chess was mainly a game that men played. True, he had taught Winifred to play chess years ago, but it was when he longed for a son, and she started acting like a boy. “Then chess it is,” he said, nodding to his squire.

“Come on, Drew. I’ll show you a few moves so you can even beat your father at the game someday.” Raff put his hand on Drew’s back and the two of them walked away talking strategy. Lionel was happy that Drew was finally starting to act more like a boy. Lionel planned on spending even more time with him, teaching the boy the basics for becoming a page.

“Aaaaaaah,” screamed Lily again, and then Lionel heard the women talking excitedly. Then, the talking stopped and he heard sobbing.

“I’m going in,” he said to himself, pushing open the door and stopping in his tracks.

Lily sat in the birthing chair crying, holding a small, blue baby. There was a bloody mess on the floor at her feet. Lionel’s mother and Rachael stood there staring, not saying a word. Winifred wept, and Agnes pulled the girl to her, trying to hide her eyes.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, taking a few steps toward them.

“Lionel,” said Rachael, covering his sister with a blanket and running over to stop him. “It’s not a good time to be here. Please go.”

“Why the hell not? Is the baby a boy or a girl?” he asked.

“It – it’s a boy,” Rachael told him. “It was breathing at first, but now it’s not. I’m afraid it is dead.”

“Nay!” he shouted, pushing past Rachael, not willing to accept that he’d lost his nephew that he’d even yet to see. He approached his sister, looking down at the baby. “Give him to me,” he said, holding out his hands.

Lily looked up with tears streaming down her face. “Lion, he’s dead,” she cried. “I’ve lost my baby.”

“Like hell you have. We’re Hatchets, Lily, and we are strong. Your baby is strong, too. Now hand him over.”

When she did nothing to hand over the baby, Lionel plucked it from her arms and she started to cry even more.

“Lionel, don’t make your sister upset,” scolded his mother.

“Stay out of this, Mother,” warned Lionel, rubbing the baby’s chest with one hand, then turning him over and hitting him lightly on the back.

“What are you doing?” screamed Lily.

“Please, Lionel. You’re upsetting her,” said Rachael. “Put the baby down.”