Forty

 

"Sir? The midwife has been called up to the castle."

Abraham blinked. He couldn't have slept away half the day, could he? He just felt so tired all the time, and the pain in his chest was constant now. He didn't have long left. So to lose a day to sleep...

"You promised a copper coin, sir, if I brought you news," the small boy reminded him.

Abraham fished in his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. "Thank you. Now, go back to the midwife's house and tell me when she returns, and I will turn that coin into a gold one."

The boy's eyes grew round. "Truly?"

Abraham nodded gravely. "Truly."

The boy raced back toward the city.

Childbirth took a long time, or so Abraham believed, so he would have time to take the pain draught he'd bought from the apothecary before he had to head into the castle to claim the child. The stuff was terribly bitter, so it was best drunk mixed with wine, and he would need a clear head when he confronted the princess, for the girl had married her prince now.

He poured the powder into a cup, then waited for the wine to warm over the fire. He'd thought his castle was cold, but it had nothing on this cottage. Even with the fire blazing, the tips of his fingers were blue.

When steam curled up from the pot, he poured the wine into his cup, stirring it with his finger until the bitter medicine dissolved. Then he drank it down and lay back against the wall. He could hear the thump of Chase's arrows hitting the target in rapid succession. His brother in law had always been an expert marksman. Why, he could shoot the very flies from the air. He hoped Chase would teach Isaak to shoot, when the boy was old enough to draw a bow.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, Abraham drifted off into sleep again.