Chapter 13

It seemed like eternity passed as he stood there banging before a light slowly grew underneath the door and it opened to reveal the pajama-clad doctor. “You are going to wake the whole town if you keep banging and shouting like that!” He took one look at Aquila's pained expression and nodded. “It is time.”
“You mean—this is what—is supposed—to—happen?” Aquila gritted out.
“Yes. What did you think was supposed to happen?” Doctor Witherfield chuckled. “It is called a contraction.”
The contraction, as Doctor Witherfield called it, ceased and Aquila sighed. “I have no idea. I thought something was wrong.”
“No. Everything is going as it is supposed to go. Sir Classye, please put her in the bed to the left while I wash my hands,” Doctor Witherfield instructed.
Trouble obeyed and then quickly moved a chair to her bedside. Aquila took his hand and smiled. “They are coming. I am going to have my babies.”
“Yes, you are, my love.” Trouble smiled.
Doctor Witherfield placed another chair on the other side and sat down. “Now we wait.”
“Wait?” Aquila frowned.
“Yes. I must time the contractions. It may not happen for a few hours yet. I doubt it would happen before tomorrow comes,” Doctor Witherfield said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Tomorrow? But the pain!” Aquila complained.
“Yes, the pain will continue for quite some time. But just because you are in pain does not mean that it is going to happen right then.”
A contraction hit and Doctor Witherfield looked at his pocket watch. Aquila squeezed Trouble's hand with her right and with the left she clenched the bedsheets. Gasping with relief when it passed, Doctor Witherfield nodded. When another one hit, he nodded again. “Yes, it will be a few hours yet.”
Hours passed by slowly as contractions hit one after the other, the next one growing closer to the last one every time. Doctor Witherfield had at one point gotten up and poured a basin full of water. Dipping a rag in it and squeezing it out, he handed it to Trouble and motioned for him to gently pat her face. Trouble continued to hold her hand with one hand as he wiped her brow with the other. Aquila was immensely grateful for the cool water as it seemed that the room was growing steadily hotter by the second.
Finally, when Aquila was sure her contractions would not stop, Doctor Witherfield nodded at Trouble. “It is time.” Moving to the end of the bed, Doctor Witherfield looked at Aquila. “All right. This is going to be the hardest part of labor and delivery. It is going to be more painful then your contractions. Now when I say push, push with everything you got.”
Taking a few deep breaths despite the pain, Aquila closed her eyes and waited with dread. Seconds later Doctor Witherfield gave the order and Aquila pushed with all her might. The painful minutes of pushing seemed like torturous hours until finally Doctor Witherfield announced the arrival of a baby boy. Only seconds after that announcement Aquila could hear his screams and she opened an eye to look at him. Doctor Witherfield had him wrapped in several blankets and situated carefully on the second bed before readying himself for the next one.
Aquila released the sheets and then grabbed a fresh spot, once again bracing herself for the next baby. Doctor Witherfield ordered her to push. The contractions were returning with an even greater ferocity than before.
“I cannot do this!” Aquila screamed in agonizing pain.
“Yes you can, Aquila! You must! Now push!” Doctor Witherfield shouted above her screams.
Aquila took a deep breath and pushed with every ounce of strength she had, forcing her breath out in excruciating cries. Then when she was sure she had nothing left to give, Doctor Witherfield held up the second baby screaming and crying. “A second boy!”
Aquila released her grip on the bedsheets, the remaining air in her lungs leaving her in a rush. Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the crying infants. She had no strength with which to—grabbing the sheets again, she screamed.
Doctor Witherfield blinked and Trouble jumped to his feet. “Why is she still in pain?” he demanded.
“There is another one,” Doctor Witherfield replied in calm shock.
“Another one?” Aquila cried out.
“Three babies?” Trouble declared.
“Three.” Doctor Witherfield placed the second baby carefully beside the other and nodded. “All right. Push!”
Aquila threw her head from side to side. “I cannot!”
Trouble released Aquila's hand and grabbed her face with his hands. “Push, Aquila, push!”
Aquila gasped for air. Pushing so hard she brought her knees and chest up to meet in the middle. Soon her own screams were met with a chorus of two unhappy infants. Suddenly Doctor Witherfield laughed. “We have her!”
The pain ceased and Aquila fell limp onto her pillow. She could say nothing to acknowledge her babies arrival, instead she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

*********

When Aquila opened her eyes it took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened. “My babies!”
Trouble was immediately at her side. “Shh! They are all right. They are sleeping after their meal.”
Aquila's brow knit in confusion. “How did they eat?”
“You were so out of it that I had to turn you over and hold the babies in place but it worked. They had their fill and fell right asleep,” Trouble explained.
Aquila looked over to the three small bundles. “Two boys and a girl?”
“That is right. What have we decided to name them?”
“Sevrrech Laush, Gilov Elm-vesit, and...Emili Uwani.”
“Beautiful. Just like their mother.” Trouble kissed Aquila on the nose and then on the lips.

**********

“Baby, I am going hunting,” Trouble announced two weeks later.
“Hunting?” Aquila frowned as she smoothed a dark curl away from Emili's eyes. “But Love, you said it was dangerous out there.”
“It is, but we need food and I cannot afford enough food to hold us until I get paid again. Do not worry. I will be all right,” Trouble assured her.
Aquila worried her lower lip as Emili gently sucked her breast. “You will shoot everything that moves, will you not?”
Trouble chuckled. “I doubt I will be in that much danger.”
Aquila gently rocked as she thought of the many stories she had heard in the general store about many hunters who never returned. Horrible rumors went around about the different ways they died but all were painful and never left the family back at home happy.
Trouble stepped to her side and gently kissed the top of her head. “I will be all right. I will take every precaution necessary and will return home in two nights. You should have enough food until then.”
Aquila reluctantly watched him leave and sighed. “Deus, please watch over him.”

**********

Therget stepped out onto the porch of the tavern and rolled his shoulders in the heat of the afternoon. Movement at the end of the road caught his eye and all movement stopped as he watched the Tall Man mount up. His eyes narrowed as he remembered in great detail the evening before when the Tall Man had butted in where he did not belong. He had promised the Tall Man that he would regret it and Therget had no intention of not carrying through with that promise.
“Lywor! Struit!” he called gruffly into the tavern. “Ighthatrak, Rytanin, and Dar'bura!”
Five rough looking men showed up ranging from 5'4 to 6'1 from inside the tavern. “Aw, Therget, I was just getting to know that nice gal!” the short Rytanin complained.
“Close your mouth and listen,” Therget backhanded the man's shoulder. “You remember that Tall Man who saved Walshray from getting his head removed?”
“I remember,” Struit growled.
Dar'bura spat on the ground and cursed under his breath. Lywor scowled at the ground. Ighthatrak grinned. “We gonna make him regret it?”
“That was just what I was thinkin',” Therget nodded.
“How's we supposed to do that?” Lywor questioned.
Therget pulled on his brown scraggly beard. “Iggie, you remember our good friend, Eyskeloth?”
Light dawned on Ighthatrak, broadening his grin. “I sure do.”
“Who is Eyskeloth?” Lywor scratched his bald head.
“Not who, what,” Therget corrected.
Lywor, Dar'bura, and Struit were instantly curious. “Darn it, Therget! Would you just tell us?” Dar'bura growled.
“Eyskeloth is the Stymphalid that lives over in Froloch Marsh,” Iggie informed them.
“Are you insane?” Lywor shrieked. “We cannot go near that thing or we ourselves will be surely torn to bits!”
“Course we won't go near it, you ninny,” Therget scowled at the small man. “We will, though, somehow get the Tall Man close enough to the marsh and make some racket so as to lure that durned beast out.”
“All right. Now how is we supposed to get Tall Man to the marsh? He could take the five of us on all at one time.” Dar'bura cursed.
Therget thought for a moment. “Tall Man seems to believe in honor and if a woman were to scream from somewhere, he would probably run to her aid, right?”
“Right,” Rytanin nodded.
“So all we need to do is get Struit here to practice his screaming and Tall Man will come runnin' thinking its a damsel in distress,” Therget thumped Rytanin's carrot topped head. “We would shorely have him then.”

*******

Trouble was half a day's journey out of town and had yet to find one thing worth trying for. Sure he had caught him a squirrel or two with which he would use to survive during his hunting expedition, but two squirrels would not feed him and Aquila.
The sun was beginning to disappear behind the tree tops as he ventured farther and farther towards Froloch Marsh. The men in town had said that game was plenty towards Froloch. But they had also warned him of a Stymphalid that lived in those parts. No matter. He would be careful and would not come on any harm.
The woods grew thicker as he neared the marsh. Ever so slowly and quietly, he crept through the forest, watching for signs of movement. Suddenly he spotted a large buck. He licked his lips as he thought of the many ways it could be cut up and served.
Leaning against a giant oak, he slowly pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed at the buck. Pulling back, he closed one eye and then the other.
A woman's scream split the air and the buck dashed off. Cursing under his breath, Trouble looked around. What was a woman doing out here? The sound had come from somewhere beyond him and where the buck had stood.
Quickly but still cautiously, he moved towards the direction he believed the sound to have come. It might be that he was too late. The woman, stupid as she must have been, had been attacked by a Stymphalid and would be dead by the time he got there.
Without warning Trouble stepped out into a large circular clearing. Stopping, he looked around and listened. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Then he saw it. Sitting on a limb across the clearing, watching him, was the biggest Stymphalid he had ever seen. If it was going to attack, he wanted it to make the first move. It might be possible that this guy was not wanting a fight and would just watch him. Thus he remained completely still.
Sweat trickled down his forehead and down his neck as he waited. Was he the only one? Would it be possible that there could be others around watching as well? He had never heard tell of whether they were companionable birds or not.
The bird did not move an inch. Deciding to chance it, Trouble stepped back into the cover of the trees.
Reeeeeaaak! The bird screeched. Wrong move. Trouble quickly moved back into the clearing. He wanted to be able to see this guy and get a clear shot at him if he was going to do battle.
The bird spread its wings and left its perch. It dove directly towards Trouble who quickly took aim and released the arrow. It was a quick aim and release that sent the arrow off so that it only grazed the bird that cried but kept coming.
Trouble dove for the ground as it tried to grab at his shoulders. His arrows spilled on the ground. He grabbed one and quickly stood and positioned it on the string.
Wildly looking around, panic seized him as the bird was missing. He could not lose sight of this bird. It would come out of nowhere and get him before he knew what was happening.
It was silent once more. Trouble looked at every branch in every tree around the clearing with no luck. He had only grazed the bird, not really disabling it. It would be back.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he forced himself to breath evenly. He pulled the string back and waited, vigilant. Suddenly he heard the wings flap and he looked up. Coming at a straight up and down angle from the sky was the bird.
He aimed the arrow and shot but missed it. Cursing under his breath, he dodged the attack and threw his bow and quiver aside in one smooth motion. As much as he dreaded it, this would have to be an actual hand to claw fight. He would be injured but it was his last chance. His arrows were spilled on the ground and he would have no time to pick one up. Drawing his dagger, he waited.
The bird was now on its feet with its wings spread out. Trouble's heart skipped a beat as the first feather shot out. He dodged it but a second brass feather hit him in the thigh and he went down on his knees.
It took that moment to jump at him. its brass claws latched into his shoulders and he cried out, dropping his dagger. It held on dragging him backwards and then it released, dropping him onto his back, his legs painfully pinned beneath him.
He was not going give up. Blood pouring from the holes in the front and back of his shoulders, he rolled over and grabbed his dagger.
Another brass feather pierced his side and he slammed his dagger blade down into the ground. Dragging himself forward, he raised his good leg and attempted to push himself off of the ground.
But the bird was on top of him, ripping out his flesh with its brass claws. He rolled his head to the side as he jerked from the pain and saw the bird's beak go into the ground where his head had been. He felt helpless to do anything. He managed to pull the dagger from the ground and when the bird moved for a better vantage point he rolled over and thrust the dagger into the bird's chest, right between the legs. It screeched and flapped its wings violently, furiously trying to fight away the pain, but to no avail. It fell to the ground. It was still alive but barely. He had gotten it close enough to the heart for sure.
Groaning in pain, he forced himself to stand. The world began to spin and he fell to the ground, hitting it with all of his weight. He cried out in agony. Pictures of Aquila being attacked so viciously by such a beast flashed through his head and he shuddered. She would not have survived. At this moment, he wondered if he would, too.
Darkness was beginning to envelope him and it was not just because the sun was going down. Shaking his head, he slowly yet painfully pushed himself off of the ground. Blood poured out of his back and shoulders rolling down his chest and legs.
The bird's arrow-like feathers still sticking out of his back and leg, he stumbled forward. If he did not start moving and find help soon, he would be forced to give in to the darkness, and it would be over for good.

********

Aquila pulled with all of her might before losing her grip on the board and falling back onto the bed. Wincing, she looked at her splinter covered hands. She was on the verge of crying.
Five days. It had been five days since Trouble had gone hunting and still he had not returned. He had said he would be back in two. Why was she so worried? He was only three days late. He probably had no luck close to town and ventured further in hopes of finding something. He would be back.
But she still wanted the boards off of her window so she could watch for him from her room and not having to constantly be going downstairs and outside to look for him. Now her hands were useless for now until she could remove the offending objects of her consternation.
Emili started crying. Aquila sighed in exasperation. Emili had not been sleeping well at all for the past four days and thus had been keeping her mother up as well as both of her brothers.
Aquila quickly moved to the cradle a kind elderly gentleman had fashioned for her and gently rocked the crying infants. It was not for another hour or so for their feeding.
Half an hour later, she rubbed her pounding temple and winced as the splinters continued to remind her of their presence. The babies had still not stopped crying even though she had taken each one in her arms and sung to him or her. She had walked around the room and spoke softly in their ear of her love for them. They had calmed down considerably but when she laid them down to take the next one around the room, they started up again.
Finally she was satisfied that it was close enough to their feeding time to feed them. So she moved the rocker beside the cradle so she could rock the other infant in the cradle while she fed the other two and sang.
She had them all fed and laying peacefully back in the cradle. Daring not to make a sound, she inwardly thanked Deus for His intervention. Quietly she slipped out of the room and down the hall. She wanted to go sit on the porch for a little while.
Aquila had her hand on the doorknob when Emili started screaming. “No!” Aquila pounded on the door and then cried out in pain. She had to remove the splinters even if the babies were screaming.
Finding a needle, she worked one by one, painfully dragging each splinter out. When the last one was out, she breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, the babies cried on.
“Trouble, where are you? I can not take this much longer!” Aquila shouted to no one in particular.
So her days and nights went. No sleep but maybe a half hour nap in between feeding and the next time the babies started crying.
Food was sparse as the days stretched on into a week and she had to ration herself to one square meal a day with a bite or two throughout the course of the night. Her weight began dropping as it was used to fuel her milk for the babies, leaving her completely exhausted.
One morning Aquila picked up all three babies and ran out the door. She had to get outside for some fresh air, screaming infants or not.
Heads turned as she passed the village people, curious as to what the ruckus was all about. She simply shrugged and they nodded sympathetically at her.
She had just made a full circle around town when six men rode into town, one carrying a large brass-like bird. People began to gather around them.
“Look what we done killed. A Stymphalid!” one of the filthy bedraggled men shouted.
Aquila moved closer to get a look herself at the creature. Worry creased her brow as she remembered Trouble's voice berating her for going hunting. “Many men have gone hunting and have never been heard from again.”
Aquila gasped. What if that was what had happened to Trouble? He had had a run in with one of these creatures and had been killed.
The short and fat man turned the bird around and Aquila frowned. There was a dagger still sticking out of the creature and on the handle it had an inscription but it was too small to read. Something about it, though, looked familiar.
Squeezing through the crowd, she moved so she was right beside the man and his horse. He grinned down at her revealing three missing teeth and winked. “Got me a perty thing, eh Lady?”
Ignoring the fowl stench that no doubt came from the man as much as the dead fowl, she read the inscription. “Nary a man who crossed this Woman and lived to tell.” Trouble! That was his dagger.
“Sir! Where did you get that dagger?” Aquila questioned.
The man frowned. “I bought it off a peddler.”
“When?” Aquila asked persistently.
“A month ago, why?” The man spat on the ground two inches away from Aquila's feet.
She stepped back. “You lie, sir. That dagger belonged to my husband and he had it on him only a week and a half ago. What have you done with him?”
“I ain't done nothin' with yore husband, madam. As sure as I live, this dagger belongs to me,” he stated emphatically.
“You—“ Aquila started to protest.
“Shuddup, Lady, and move on.” A short burly man nudged her back with his horse. “I was there when he bought that thang.”
Aquila quickly turned and worked her way out of the crowd, tears flowing down her cheeks. How that man had gotten the dagger, she did not know, but it was Trouble's for certain.
Once inside their apartment she slammed the door with her foot and bolted it. Babies in her arms, she leaned up against the door and slid down to the floor. Trouble was dead. That was all there was to it. They had killed him. The whole lot of them. Took his weapons and left him somewhere out there for the vultures and wild creatures to eat.
Aquila sobbed, the fact that all three of her babies were silently sleeping, lost on her. Trouble was dead.

*******

Three days after the men had rode into town with Trouble's dagger, Aquila pulled herself together and began packing. She was leaving, dangerous as it was. Sir Skelumu had found another man to take the job that Trouble had left and had informed her only that morning that she would need to pack up and move somewhere else.
Her clothes and all that she had for the babies was packed in the two saddlebags when she scooped the infants into her arms and took off for the livery stable next door. Frasier Briggs was a slightly older gentleman who she had only met a time or two. He was a respected businessman in town even though all he owned was the livery. Aquila had decided upon her first encounter that he was a good man. That was the reason why she had high hopes that he would grant her request.
“Sir Briggs,” she called out as she entered the large barn.
Frasier Briggs, though respected, was somewhat mysterious. He carried himself as one of high education although he boasted of no such thing. He walked with a limp which no one knew why. He remained cordial to all though he kept to himself as best as possible. It was with this limp that he scuffled around the doors of a small room and to her side. “Good afternoon, Lady Classye. May I take one of them bundles for you?”
Aquila relinquished Gilov to his care and smiled. “Good afternoon.”
“Such precious wee little ones, they are.” The man's gray eyes twinkled down at the infant he held.
“Yes. Sir Briggs, I have a special request to make. I pray that you will hear me out.” Aquila knew it was best to get right to the point.
“Yes, my lady, how may I be of assistance to you?”
“My husband has been gone for two weeks now and a man has shown up in town with his dagger. I can only imagine that he is dead. Sir Skelumu had to hire a new man to run the blacksmith shop and has told me that I am to move out of the apartment above it. I have no money at the present time, but I need to leave. Which is why I must ask that you lend to me in good faith that I shall pay you every penny it is worth...the covered wagon that sits behind the livery.” Aquila held her breath and watched his face.
He looked at her a moment in indecision and then at the babies. “You may have it. It has not been used for over ten years and I doubt it will be used in the near future. You may take it and I will trust that you shall send the money for it later when you have it.”
Aquila wanted to hug him. “Oh, thank you, Sir Briggs! You do not know how you have been such a blessing to me. I could not possibly travel with these babies in my arms. May Deus in heaven above bless you beyond what that wagon is worth.”
Sir Briggs gently caressed Gilov's soft cheek. “Aye, it would only be the babies that could induce me to extend such faith, even to a special lady as yourself.”
“I am going to get our saddlebags,” Aquila said and then left Gilov in Sir Briggs' arms.
After retrieving the saddlebags and whispering a final farewell to the apartment she had so diligently tended, she scurried through the livery to the back door and threw the saddlebags into the back of the empty wagon.
Frowning, she carefully scrutinized the interior. How would she keep the babies? The cradle! Returning to the apartment, she placed Emili and Sevrrech in the cradle and carefully carried them in it down the stairs and back to the wagon.
Placing it in the back of the wagon, she bounced on the back of the wagon to test the stability of such an idea. The cradle rocked a little too violently for her peace of mind. Scratching her head, she studied the cradle's rockers. If she sawed off the ends of the legs it might not rock.
Sir Briggs stood to the side, watching her in amusement. Aquila paid him no mind and quickly found a saw. Finding one hanging on a peg just inside the blacksmith shop, she returned and began sawing off the legs. They might have been nice to have but she was in need of a carrier for the babies while she drove the wagon.
When the task was complete, she bounced on the back of the wagon and smiled satisfactorily as it only slightly moved from side to side. With all three infants in it, it would help as well.
Aquila dropped her hands to her side happy at her success when she felt the familiar pouch hidden away in her robe. Blinking, she gently fingered the pendant through her robe and thought for a moment. Sir Briggs was an honest man. She had seen him attending church many times.
“Sir Briggs...I have something for you. Maybe you will take in payment or just as a promise of payment.” Aquila reached inside her robe and pulled out the small velvet pouch.
Sir Briggs straightened at the sight of the pouch and something flashed in his eyes. “Where did you get that?”
“I...I was somewhere between Braedoch Forest and Quentin, the palace of the old Lucian royalty, when a man was killed. Before he died, he slipped this into my hands,” Aquila explained. “Why?”
“Lady Classye, that is the pendant that—“
“Belonged to the Lucian royalty? I know. I only found that out after having my life threatened twice...I will understand if you do not want to take it. It is a hazard at times,” Aquila was quick to explain.
“No, Lady Classye, I will take it. I will take in as payment for this wagon. You see, I was a member of the Royal Guard. I was injured that fateful day that almost cost me my leg, which is why I walk with a limp. Tell no one of this, but I will take the pendant. It belongs in the depths of the sea!”
Aquila gazed up in amazement at the man as he stood at attention as he took the pouch from her hands. “You were of the Royal Guard?”
“Yes, my lady, I was. It was the greatest honor of my life to be able to serve my king,” Sir Briggs nodded as he handed Gilov to her care.
Saying no more, Sir Briggs harnessed the two horses that they had rode into town on to the wagon and then assisted her onto the bench. Once situated, Aquila turned and smiled down at him. “Thank you, Sir Briggs, for all of your help today and especially for this wagon.”
“Your welcome, my lady. Fare thee well!” Sir Briggs saluted her crisply and then waved as Aquila slapped the reins against the horses' rumps.
Only ten minutes west of town, Aquila felt something hit her legs and she looked down. A bow and quiver laid underneath the bench. The quiver had rolled going down the hill and hit her legs. Aquila smiled. Sir Briggs was sent by Deus Himself.

********

Leveling the arrow on the string, Aquila pulled it back and let it fly. Squealing only second later when it hit the target, she jumped from the wagon and took off after the now dead rabbit.
She packed it in some brown paper that she had stashed in her saddlebag and then stepped back up into the coach. She would have a good supper that night when she camped out for the night. Choosing to skirt around the woods, she pulled the horses to the left. It was rumored that a small town thrived some twenty miles to the southwest of Zharyd.
As it grew dark, Aquila looked around and shivered. She felt like a million eyes were watching her. Maybe she would just stop long enough to cook the rabbit. She would eat it on the road. The babies were sleeping just as well in the wagon as they were before anyway.
Pulling up, she gathered firewood and had a fire going before long. She skinned the rabbit and cooked the meat, all the while looking at the trees and through the open space behind her. Once the meat was cooked, she threw dirt on the fire and then climbed back onto the wagon.
Picking up the reigns, she slapped it against the horses' rumps. “Ho!” she hollered in the dark.
Dozing off and on through the night, she allowed the horses to simply shuffle along. When the sun rose she clucked to the horses and picked up the pace. So she traveled every day and night until arriving upon a small town that boasted the name of Larkspur.
Emili, Gilov, and Sevrrech were all wailing their complaints as she rolled into town and many stopped to watch her move down the street. One man, quite shocked at her appearance, stepped up to the side of the wagon. “Where do you hail from, my lady?”
“Zharyd,” she replied.
“You made it from Zharyd without a man?” he seemed incredulous.
“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?” Aquila frowned.
“B—because! Stymphalids breed by the dozens between here and Zharyd. It is even dangerous for men to travel through here. Why just last week a man stumbled into town half dead from an attack from one of those beasts!”