Stalking Darkness

looked up at her and Kari saw the depth of unhappiness in his young face. “Now he goes out at night or sits up writing. He hardly sleeps at all.”
    “Writing what?”
    Alec shrugged. “He won’t talk about it. I even thought of stealing a look at his papers, but he’s got them hidden somewhere. It’s like he’s fading inside, Kari, leaving us behind without going away. And I keep thinking about something he told me once, about when he was exiled from Aurënen.”
    He spoke of that to you?
thought Kari. Even Micum knew almost nothing of that part of Seregil’s life.
    “Another boy was sent away with him then, but he threw himself off the ship and drowned,” Alec went on. “Seregil says most Aurënfaie exiles end up suicides because sooner or later they fall into despair living among the Tírfaie. He said it hadn’t happened to him. But the way things are now, I think maybe it has.”
    Kari watched his hands tighten around the mug he was holding. There was something else going on behind those blue eyes, something too painful to share. She reached to stroke his cheek.
    “Then keep good watch over him, Alec. You two share the same blood. Perhaps in his sadness he’s forgotten that.”
    Alec sighed heavily. “He’s forgotten more than that. The day he found me again in Plenimar, something happened, but now he won’t—”
    Kari flinched suddenly as a sharp stab of pain lanced down one leg.
    “What it is?” he asked, concerned.
    Kari gasped through her teeth again, then grasped his arm to raise herself. “It’s only the eight-month pains. A walk in the meadow will ease them and we can keep talking.” The pain passed and she gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t look so worried. It’s just the Maker’s way of preparing me for the birth. You know, I’ve got a craving for some of that new cheese. Run and fetch us a bit from the dairy, would you?”
    “Are you sure? I don’t like to leave you.”
    “Maker’s Mercy, Alec, I was bearing children before you were even thought of. Go on, now.” Pressing her fists into the small of her back, she went outside by the kitchen door so as not to waken the servants still sleeping in the hall.
    Alec was halfway to the dairy before he realized he’d forgotten to bring a dish for the fresh curds. By the time he found one, Kari was already out of sight around the corner of the house. Going around to the courtyard, however, he saw that the postern was still barred.
    A deep groan came from behind him, and he turned to find Kari sagging against the stone watering trough near the stable. Her face was white, and the front of her shift was wet to the hem.
    “Oh, Dalna!” he gasped, dropping the cheese as he hurried to her. “Is it the baby? Is it coming now?”
    “Too early and too fast! I should have realized—” Kari grabbed his arm, digging her fingers painfully into his wrist as another spasm took her.
    She was a tall woman and too heavy with child for him to carry. Getting an arm around her waist, he supported her as best he could to the front door. It was still barred and he kicked at it, shouting for help.
    The door opened at last. Elsbet and several servants helped bring her inside.
    Beyond them, Micum limped from his bedchamber. “What isit?” he demanded anxiously, catching sight of Kari in the midst of the commotion.
    “It’s the baby,” Alec told him.
    “I’ll go for a midwife!” Seregil offered, halfway to the door already.
    “No time,” Kari gasped. “My women can help me. We’ve delivered a whole house full of babies between us. Stay with Micum, you and Alec both. I want you with him! Elsbet, Illia, come to me!”
    Arna and the other woman helped their mistress into her chamber and closed the door firmly, leaving the men stranded in the hall.
    “She’s not so young as she was,” Micum said, lowering himself shakily down into a chair by the fire. Kari let out a cry of pain in the next room and he went pale.
    “She’ll be all right,” Seregil told him, although he was looking a bit green himself. “And it’s not so early for the child. She was due in the next few weeks anyway.”
    They sat exchanging uneasy glances as her cries echoed through the house. Servants drifted in and out, listening nervously. Even the hounds refused to be put out and lay whining at their feet. At last Seregil fetched his harp and played to soothe them all.
    A final straining groan rang out just before noon, followed by a thin wail and exclamations