Cindra is the pig?
25th December 1102
Cindra pulled the door shut hurriedly behind her. So good so far, now she just had to…
She nearly shrieked in terror as she felt a meaty hand on her shoulder. She spun around in surprise almost colliding with Radomir who was rapidly retracting his hand.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he mumbled.
She stared at him in darkness oddly reminded of a children’s fairytale, the one with the wolf at the door and the pigs huddled inside as they felt their house shuddering with each breath, knowing it was only moments till it crumpled around them. He loomed above her in the claustrophobic hallway, his teeth glinting in the candlelight like fangs as he grimaced at her.
If he was the wolf, she supposed she must be the pig. It would have been funny if her heart hadn’t been throbbing at the base of the her throat. She swallowed thickly.
“Is… is she alright?” his voice was trembling as he asked.
His outstretched hand which had previously been resting on her shoulder, heavy and hot with dark hairs curling over its surface had not yet fallen to his side and she saw that it was trembling too.
She put on her biggest, most genuine grin. She only hoped it would be enough.
“Oh dear me now, she’s doing just fine. These things take such an awful long time, don’t you know. I wouldn’t worry a bit if I were you. Isn’t there somewhere you could sit and wait. I’m sure they will let you know when it happens.”
“Why aren’t you in there?” he asked softly, his shoulders hunching so that his great, hulking head swayed towards her.
Little pig, little pig…
“Oh, right, well it’s just,” she searched desperately for some kind of excuse, “they’ve run out of… water! Yes, water in there and they sent me to fetch some.”
“Water! I could get some for you,” his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red and she could see a disturbing fervent desperation glowing there.
“Oh… that’s very kind,” come on Cindra, think damn you, “it’s just. Well, it’s special water. Uh, not the sort of thing men know about if you understand my meaning.”
She prayed to God that he did, for she had no clue herself.
“Are you sure she is alright,” he whispered hoarsely, “It’s just that, the screaming stopped and I thought…”
He took a deep shuddering breath, “I thought… but then nobody came and I waited and waited but nobody came.”
Cindra felt a sudden rush of pity for the man. Certainly he had done terrible things, and he was rude and standoffish and had a bad attitude towards women. But it was clear that he loved his wife and Cindra could not imagine what he must be feeling, listening to her shriek and moan as she gave birth to another man’s child. And yet he had not left the door for a single moment. Suddenly she couldn’t tell who was wolf and who was pig.
She patted him heartily on the shoulder, trying not to think of how many times those tightly coiled muscles had been used to smash his fist into his wife’s face.
“Why you silly duck! Don’t you know that the pain comes and goes. Sometimes for long enough that we can even fall asleep in between. It’s funny like that. Hurts so bad you could scream bloody murder and then nothing for a long time.”
“Oh, I see,” he gave a weak laugh, “how silly of me. And here I was thinking… thinking… well.”
He coughed uncomfortably then looked up at her with a soft smile.
She felt terrible, she had never seen the Earl smile, not once and here it was in all its achingly genuine vulnerability and she was lying between her teeth.
“Thank you for taking such good care of my wife,” he mumbled, his eyes down turned, “and for being so kind to me.”
“You’re welcome,” she managed to blurt out as she turned on her heel.
Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin…
Poor guy
Heh. It certainly worked to Cindra’s advantage that in those days, those of the male persuasion knew relatively little about childbirth. I can’t believe Radomir actually bought it… or did he?
Meanwhile, my inner child is delighted that you managed to work the three little pigs into this
I think Radomir bought it. Good thinking Cindra! And I’m so glad someone has finally noticed that Radomir really does feel love and concern for his wife, even if she can’t forget all the terrible things he has done to her (and other women). Maybe he will have just a wee bit of an ally?
And I loved loved loved poor Cindra’s confused Three Little Pigs monologue… I can just imagine her running off to snort and choke on hysterical laughter.
I love Cindra. She’s the cutest, pinchable-est thing going.
Hey Verity, quick question for you. Other than Varda, Lekha, and Morven, how many other women in your story are currently pregnant? Specifically, is Isaura pregnant? She and Lochan did have a little “fade to black”, if I recall correctly…
I went and checked my database (which is really an excel spreadsheet but database sounds cooler
. So here is the women that you guys know who are pregnant at the moment:
Cindra – about 3 months
Morven – 4 months
Varda – about 7 months
Lekha – 5 months
Polina – is ready to pop at 8 months
Darina – 6 months (we will see her in a few chapters)
Gena – 2 months
And I have already rolled a few months in advance so there are going to be a few more soon.
Unfortunately not Isaura (since she and Lochan make such nice looking babies). She is difficult since most of the time she does get pregnant she miscarries (she has had 6). And it seems the way it works with miscarriages is the more you have the more likely you are to have another.
I know what you mean, I refer to my spreadsheet as a database too. I actually am slowly moving everything from Excell to Access, but I’m lazy, so it will take a while
Hmmm… so if Isaura dies, I can’t imagine Lochan remarrying any time soon, and even if he wanted to, there’s not really anyone available (or at least, for his class–or would class matter in such a situation in such a small, isolated kingdom? Hmmm…). So if Isaura doesn’t give him a son, then who will be Lochan’s heir? Yvaine’s husband? Of course, Yvaine would probably be be Eallair’s first choice for Kendrick, who would already be future king, so… Eallair’s second son could be duke?
Sorry about that. I’m totally over-thinking your story