Kelgar staggered into the kitchen. The smell of freshly baking bread filled his nostrils, a welcome respite from the stench of his own sweat mingled with Vance’s blood. The first rays of sunlight were peering over the mountaintops, staining the morning with gold. At the breaking of the dawn Vance’s face had been warm once more, glowing pink with the sun’s kiss where before it had been pallid in the moon’s draining embrace. He looked peaceful, his face relaxing as the night chill was dispelled.

He inwardly cursed as he looked up to see the early morning bustle of the kitchen had begun. He had been hoping to find only Osras breaking his fast before taking over guard duty from Kelgar, and perhaps Polina. It was much worse he thought, as his gaze fell on Illewen who was softly cooing to her baby as Polina stoked the cools beneath the giant pot of porridge that hung perilously close to the flames. Though she was bent over he could clearly see the swollen outline of her belly where she carried his brother’s second child. At Illewen’s feet sat Osra’s firstborn, his niece, Esther, thumping her tiny feet against the packed earth floor.

He felt a brief pang of jealousy remembering the competition for Polina’s affections. It could easily have been his daughter sitting on the floor, gazing curiously at some beetle she clutched in her fat little hands, his wife, her proud figure swollen with his child. But it had been Polina’s choice and she had chosen Osras. He pushed the bitter thoughts away and returned to the dreadful news he now had to deliver to Vance’s unsuspecting wife.

Illewen and Polina had not noticed him yet, engrossed in their tasks but little Esther was looking up at him defiantly. Her face was so like her mother’s it was hard to recognise any of Osras’ feature in it. She carefully set down the beetle she had been examining which scuttled frantically away to hide in the relative safety of the flour sack that slumped beside the fireplace.

“Ah”, she calmly declared and Illewen looked up in surprise.

“Oh Kelgar… good morrow to yew. I wasn’t seein’ yew there”, she smiled brightly, her large brown eyes gazing at him kindly.

Polina turned to stare at him haughtily, raising an eyebrow as her only form of greeting. Usually he would have given her a saucy wink that would make the corners of her lips twitch up into almost a smile. But today was not the day for such things. He noticed her eyes growing wide as she saw the sticky patches of dried blood that stained the sleeve of his tunic and the rough material beneath his plated armour.

“Oh but Kelgar, yew be bleedin’ love”, Illewen cried out in dismay, her dear little face filled with concern.

“It’s not mine”, he managed between gritted teeth.

“Oh but that’s a relief then… but then”, she smiled again, a grin that contorted into something hideous as it stretched wider and wider as comprehension dawned on her.

“It’s Vance… he’s… oh Illewen, I’m so sorry. He’s dead”, he muttered, holding back the hot tears that were threatening to prise open the cracks in his anger and force their way out.

She nodded, still grinning, her hold on the baby in her arms loosening. She began to slide out of her mother’s relaxing grasp, whimpering in dismay.

“For Lord sakes Illewen, be givin’ me that baby before yew drop her!”, Polina snapped, grabbing at the falling baby.

Illewen’s eyes closed tightly, that dreadful smile still remaining sewn across her face as permanent as the threads of a tapestry.

“Oh no… I’m bein’ fine Polina. Just fine”, she was nodding limply, her head rocking back and force on her neck like a corpse in a gibbet swaying gently in the breeze.

Polina snatched the baby from her arms, striding over to Kelgar.

“Here, hold her!”, she commanded, thrusting the infant at him.

He reached out hurriedly to catch the infant which had begun to squall, “What.. why?”

There was a soft thud and then a low keening sound as Illewen slid to the floor. She began to weep, her body shaking in grief, her fingers hiding those soft, kind eyes as they disappeared behind a curtain of tears.

“There’s yer why yew fool!” she replied angrily, turning back to Illewen.

She waddled back to Illewen’s side, lowering herself awkwardly to the floor, wrapping her arms around the young woman’s trembling body as she sobbed with wild abandon.

“Come on then love… on yer feet an’ I’ll make yew hot drink. No use sittin’ here on the dirty floor. It won’t be bringin’ him back and yew’ve got a littl’un to think of”, Polina murmured helping Illewen to her feet.

“Shhh now love… it’ll be bein’ alright”, she draped an arm across the smaller woman’s shoulders and gently stroked her arm.

“Go be wakin’ Osras, Kelgar”, she requested, “He’s probably bein’ up already. He can help yew…”

“But what should I be doing with this here baby”, he interrupted.

The little girl was mewling softly, pawing at the hard plates of his armour, upset by the sounds of her mother’s distress. Kelgar shifted her weight uncomfortably. He had never been much good when it came to babies. And holding this one was only serving to remind him that she would never know her father. A painful lump was forming in Kelgar’s throat. He swallowed hard trying to ignore the sensation and the prickling in his eyes.

“For goodness sake Kelgar… yer bein’ a big man an’ yew can’t even cope with a baby fer ten lousy seconds!”, Polina snapped her face livid.

“Give her to Maire!”, she ordered, turning her attentions back to the distraught woman.

Kelgar turned to see Maire stalking into the kitchens rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Why do I always got to be doin’ eveyythin’”, she whined with a scowl, “It’s bein’ to early fer this an’ I ain’t got enough sleep”.

She looked up suddenly noticing Illewen’s distress and Kelgar’s presence. Her demeanor instantly changed, her shoulders pulling back to display her small round, breasts, her head held high. She began to sway her hips from side to side as she walked, slinking over to him. She did not however, raise her eyes to meet his gaze, they remained steadfastly fixed on the scene before her.

“What’s happened?”, she asked, a hint of worry creeping into voice.

“Vance has been killed”, Polina replied flatly, illiciting another wail from Illewen, “Now be takin’ that baby from Kelgar an’ make yerself useful fer goodness sakes”.

Maire, to his relief and he suspected the baby’s also, slid out two scrawny arms to receive the squirming creature without looking up at Kelgar.

“Maire… I… thank yew”, he reached out a hand towards her arm but still she would not look at him.

He found himself gazing at the top of her head, at the thick red strands of hair greasy with cooking smoke from the kitchen.

“Yer bein’ welcome”, she mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze, her face tilted downwards, her eyes fixed on the packed dirt floor.

“Oh fer the good Lord’s sake. Would yer two stop behavin’ like a couple of stunned chickens an’ get movin!”, Polina barked.

“Oh… yes of course”, Kelgar stammered, his voice growing choked as the lump moved up his throat again, “Illewen… I’m mighty sorry about Vance. He was damned fine man…”

He was interrupted by Polina’s snarl and a wail from Illewen, “Now isn’t bein’ the time fer that yew big oaf. Yer just makin’ more of a mess of things. Now get yerself out that door before I have to be encouragin’ yew with my boot applied to yer arse”.

He nodded mutely and pushed past Maire casting one hasty unreturned glance in her direction.

He swung open the heavy door with a thump, finally letting his emotions have free reign, his face contorting into a painful grimace. He opened his mouth in an angry sob and only then did he let the hot tears gush from his eyes, the salty fluid stinging his scars as they slithered down his trembling cheeks.