The rest of the week was wonderful, the nightmare all but forgotten, but after that week, Charles got busy. It would be some time before things got hectic, but he had more than enough duties to keep him occupied. Genevieve moved out of the room and Charles temporarily panicked.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m just moving down the hall. I can’t exactly go home. Margo and Nelly collected my few pitiful things from the house. They told Mother Ingrid they were contracted as maids for the countess. I bet that made Mother Ingrid steaming mad. Meanwhile, Matthild and Otl have agreed to continue to take care of Mother Ingrid and the girls, at least for the time being. Matthild basically just cooks and Otl hammers a lot on the barn, the stables, and the house, and takes care of the grounds, but all outside. Otherwise, it looks like Gisela and Ursula are going to have to do a little work, like cleaning and laundry. It won’t hurt them. They might lose a few pounds. I am sure Mother Ingrid would not want to pay what it would actually cost for some real help around the house. But for me, seriously, I don’t know where I can go. I can’t go home…”
Charles coughed, and Genevieve learned when he coughed in that way he meant for her to take a breath. She looked up at him. “You are moving down the hall?”
She nodded. “The other side of Uncle Bernard’s room,” she said and started up again. “You are going to need your rest, and let’s be honest, neither of us has gotten much rest in this past week. But don’t worry. I will be there for you for as long as you want me or need me to be. I mean, I can’t exactly marry you. You have a wife. You love your wife?” She asked that before and he nodded like before.
“She wiggles.”
“I don’t need the details. You know, love is more than just sex. As long as you love your wife, I am sure you will be happy. I hope you have lots of lovely children together.” Her voice trailed off when someone came to the open door. It was Uncle Bernard.
“Ready?” Bernard said in a cheerful voice that made Genevieve privately frown.
Edelweiss came shooting in the doorway, right by Bernard, and came to hover over the bed. “Did you tell him?” She was excited about something.
“No. Not yet.” Genevieve paused and gave the fairy a sour look. Of course, by then Bernard and the generals knew all about the fairy. It was a kindness to Edelweiss to let her get little and not have to remain in her big size for long periods of time, something that is hard for a little fairy to do. They also got to meet Edelweiss’ father, Lord Evergreen, who promised to scout ahead when Charles got the army gathered and moved toward Italy. Margo and Nelly were still seen as young women, more like Genevieve’s maids than just friends. but elves had less trouble appearing human. They could affect a simple glamour and walk through the marketplace without notice, or without undue attention. The young men might notice. Elf maids were notoriously pretty. However, they were not fairy beautiful, which was a kind of unearthly beauty that was hard for some humans to take in, much less describe.
“Ready,” Genevieve said in a sour voice to match the look on her face.
“What?” Bernard asked.
“What is it?” Charles echoed.
Genevieve picked up her little bag, hardly an oversized purse and put it on her shoulder. She grumped, “I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“How do you know?” Charles asked.
“I thought it took a month or two months to determine that,” Bernard said.
“Lady is going to have a baby,” Edelweiss said and fluttered down to put her little hands just beyond Genevieve’s middle. “Can’t tell boy or girl yet. It is too early for that, but I can feel the growing.” Edelweiss flew up to face Charles. “You are going to have a baby.”
Charles shouted for joy and jumped up and down. He started to sing but stopped quickly when both Genevieve and Bernard gave him a sour look. Edelweiss wrinkled her whole face, but then she smiled, being caught up in the emotion of it all.
Genevieve stomped to the door, handed her purse to Bernard, told Edelweiss to visit with Uncle Bernard for a minute and said to Charles, “Get in here, you moron.” Charles stopped jumping and came sheepishly into the room while Genevieve slammed the door and yelled. “What is wrong with you?”
“What?” Charles stood up tall and straight. “I thought you wanted a baby,” he yelled back.
“I did. I do. But you are married and I am not. I expected to get married.”
“What? You did not want to have my baby?”
“That is not it. I am glad the baby is yours, but a bastard son or daughter is not a good thing. What are you going to tell your wife? You were busy having a baby so I went off to find a little tart to get pregnant?”
“I don’t think of you that way. You should not think of yourself that way.”
“I should ask Father Flaubert to give me a whipping.”
“The nice old priest would not do it.”
“But Charles.” Genevieve began to cry softly. “What am I going to do? I can’t go home. I have no husband. Your poor baby and I will be living on the street, begging.” She ran at Charles, grabbed him around the middle, and as she hugged him, she wept into his chest.
“Hush,” he said. “It will be all right,” he said. “We will figure it out. you’ll see. Hush.”
~~~*~~~
One week later, Charles made some time and took Genevieve for a quiet walk along the riverbank. She pointed out all the birds and flowers and said how nice the river had been that year.
“Nary a flood to speak of.”
Charles nodded for most of it, but when he spoke it was on a different subject. “I’m still thinking about your future,” he said. “Not just anyone will do, and I say that for you, not just for the baby.”
“Sir Heffen of Strasbourg asked for my hand,” she said, trying to be helpful. “He is still single as far as I know.”
“No,” he said as they came to a spot and sat where they could watch the lazy water flow by. “You need to marry someone with a higher station than a mere knight.”
“My father was a knight before your father gave him the county to defend.”
“Besides, Heffen may have been one of those in on the negotiations between the Lombards and my brother in Burgundy.”
“Well,” she said. “How about the Baron of Stuttgart? He once spoke to Mother Ingrid concerning his son. The boy is my age, or maybe sixteen, but Mother Ingrid said the eldest should marry first, but he had no interest in Ursula.”
“No, no.” Charles said. “A young man would know soon enough the baby is not his and he might put you away, or worse. No, the right one is out there. We just need to find him.”
“Hopefully before our baby is old enough to be knighted himself,” she said, and he laughed.
They kissed but got interrupted by a war cry. A man charged up the riverbank, a battleax held firmly in his hands. He did not reach the couple. The assassin fell only a few yards away. His battleax slipped from his hands but went wide, struck the ground, and slid a short way toward the river. The man had three arrows in him. Margo and Nelly came running up, bows in their hands. The third arrow came from Lord Evergreen who kindly took on the human appearance of a hunter dressed in hunter green. Charles and Genevieve were on their feet.
“My lord,” Evergreen offered a small bow to Charles and turned to Genevieve. “My lady. We have been watching. You might not know. To the contrary of his normal routine, Mister Lupen left after three days and is now half-way down the Swiss plateau, well out of reach, but only two workmen went with him and his son. This third one stayed presumably to watch their goods and with the idea that Mister Lupen would return in a month with additional goods for sale.”
“You did not trust that explanation,” Charles concluded and Lord Evergreen nodded.
Genevieve went to look. It was not a pretty sight, but she identified the man as the dark one. She added a thought, “Baldy and Blondy are still out there.”
“Maybe Mister Lupen will not dare to come back here,” Nelly suggested, and Margo looked hopeful, but Genevieve shot down that idea.
“He can always say Darky volunteered to stay. He can claim his family does not involve themselves in politics and he had no idea Darky was such a partisan. He can say if he had known, he never would have left Darky here to watch his things, and it was terrible what the man tried to do. For shame.”
“Not that we would believe him,” Charles said.
“But you would have no proof otherwise,” she finished, and took Charles’ arm for the walk back to town.
Storyteller Tales & Thoughts 