Page 2 of Sweet Mead for Lady Martine

“Sage’s baby is coming!” yelled Martine. “We need to get her out of the rain anon. She needs a midwife, and quickly.”

“God’s eyes, I cannot believe our ill luck.” Gar looked up, pushing back his long, wet hair.

“How close are we to Blake Castle?” asked Martine, realizing they must be getting nearer since she could see a town or village just up ahead. Usually the lord of the castle gave protection to the commoners of a village or town that was on his land. In return for protection, the commoners paid rent to the lord every month.

“It will take close to a half hour on horseback to get to the castle, mayhap more with this storm to contend with,” Gar told her. “We’d have to travel slowly. But it doesn’t matter. With this broken wheel, I’m afraid none of us are going anywhere right now.”

“Ooooooh, we need to get to Blake Castle,” screamed Sage, followed by the sound of her blowing deep breaths from her mouth.

“We need to get her help right now!” Josefina stuck her head out from under the blanket. “I think the baby might be starting to emerge.”

“We have to get her indoors and out of this rain.” Martine shaded her eyes and took in her surroundings. Through the rain she saw light and buildings in the distance. It was just up the road a bit. “What about there?” she asked Gar, pointing. “Mayhap we can find shelter in that town. Hopefully they’ll have a midwife. That would be helpful right about now.”

“I don’t like the idea of stopping, but I suppose we don’t have a choice.” Gar jumped up onto the back of the wagon.

“What are you doing?” gasped Martine.

“I’m going to carry her,” he explained. “It doesn’t sound as if she can walk. And this wagon isn’t going to move until the wheel is repaired.”

“Good idea. Carry her,” said Gar’s wife, Josefina, pulling away the blanket and trying to help him with Sage.

“Are you really going to carry her that far?” asked Martine.

“We have no choice. It would be too dangerous to put her on my horse in her condition. We’ll stop at the first shelter we see.” Gar picked up Sage and her head fell back over his arm as she wailed once again.

“There is an inn up at the crossroads, Lord Gar,” one of the guards shouted back to them. “I’ve visited it on occasion. It’s not as bad as most of them.”

“That’ll have to do,” Gar answered. “Declan, ride ahead and secure us lodgings for the night. Dexter, you, and Hamlin gather our things and bring them, the horses, and the women to the inn,” he instructed the other guard and servant boy.

Martine picked up a bag and slung it over her shoulder, scooting off the end of the wagon. She followed Gar as he made his way toward the inn.

“Please, by all that is holy, help us,” Martine prayed aloud, hoping there was someone at the inn who would assist them. She was frightened right now because Sage could actually lose her baby.

“Dirk, don’t let anyone else enter,” David Stone, proprietor of the Cross Hare Inn, shouted across the room to his cousin who was guarding the door. “We’re too crowded in here. The customers can’t even move anymore and there is nowhere for anyone to sit.”

“I don’t know if I can stop them from coming in,” Dirk shouted back. “The storm is picking up and everyone wants to find shelter.” Dirk was a big and intimidating man with wide shoulders and a large belly. Just a few years older than David’s twenty-three years, Dirk was the muscles of the operation while David liked to think of himself as the brains. Dirk stood every night inside the door to the inn collecting the entry fees of those who entered. It was a small fee of only a farthing but would be used to replace anything possibly broken in a brawl.

Dirk’s nearly blind father, Josef, sat in a chair next to the door. It was his job to bounce the coins on a board to make certain they were real. Uncle Joe could tell just by the sound and weight of the coins if someone was trying to cheat them. He had a keen ear since his sight had diminished years ago. More than once now since David’s father passed away had Uncle Joe heard trouble before it had a chance to start.

David didn’t have enough help to serve all these people. He was glad his business had picked up, but didn’t like so much of a crowd all at once. At this rate, they’d run out of food and drinks quickly. The last thing he needed was an angry horde on his hands.

“Where’s my ale?” complained a man sitting on a stool at the drink bar. His clothes and hair were totally drenched from the storm.

“I’ve been waiting longer than you for my whisky,” came the complaint of the man next to him who was somewhat dryer but still looked to have been caught in the rain. The men were ornery and most likely cold since there was no room near the hearth to get dry or warm. It was evident that a fight was about to break out.

“Calm down. You’ll all get served in time. Just be patient.” David quickly poured the drinks and handed them to the men, collecting the coins in return. His pregnant older sister, Cecelia walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray loaded down with bowls of pottage and small loaves of brown bread. “Here,” said David, snatching a loaf of bread off the tray and tearing it in half. He handed one piece to each man. “This is no charge for this bread, but only if you both promise not to cause trouble.”

David rushed after Cecelia and quickly took the tray from his sister. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy,” he scolded. “How many times have I told you not to carry trays when you’re pregnant?”

“I’m fine, Brother,” she said with a swish of her hand through the air. “You worry more than an old alewife at times,” she told him. “I’m not due for another two months yet.” She rubbed her belly, taking things off the tray he now held and placing the food in front of the hungry travelers.

“David! Help!” came the voice of their younger sister, Matilda. She was only thirteen but very pretty. Some of the drunken men noticed her and were starting to paw her.

“I am not going to put up with this!” David slid the tray of food onto the table, calling over his shoulder to his cousin. “Dirk, I need you to help me throw some men out of here. They know the rules and yet they continue to try to touch my sister.”

“I’m coming.” Dirk met David with a few long strides across the floor. Each of them grabbed one of the drunken sots by the front of their tunics, hauling them through the crowd and to the door. David opened the door and pushed out the first man, not realizing a woman was standing outside and was about to enter.

“Awk!” squealed the woman, jumping out of the way of the man flying through the air. Before David could even warn his cousin, Dirk threw the other drunkard outside as well. This time the drunken man hit the woman, sending both of them sprawling across the ground.