Chapter Twenty-Eight

Ged bheir thu bean o Ifrinn, bheir i dhachaigh thu.

(Though you should take a wife from Hell,

yet she will bring you home.)

— Auld Scots Adage

Julian thought the great festivals marked the passage of time at Glenrogha. He had come in the spring and experienced the joys of Beltaine, and married Tamlyn. Since then, he had celebrated Midsummer's Eve, Lughnasadh, Samhaine and Yuletide . The Wheel was coming full circle, as her people sayeth.

Where in deep summer Scotland remained light for most of the day, the opposite proved true for the cold winter. Days were too short to finish chores, and drifting snows encouraged all to stay indoors, hovering near fireside. After Yuletide, the days slowly begin to creep back from the long darkness.

He had spent the long nights holding Tamlyn, learning to open himself to her, to speak of the loss of Christian, the brutalities of war, his hopes, his desires. More importantly, how much he needed his life here with her. Each tear he shed, the soothing strokes of her hand, Tamlyn healed the pain inside him with her pagan craft. She made him live again.

Now, another festival was upon them― St. Bride's Day or Imbolg . As a Christian, he called it Candlemas . To his surprise, he found in both religions the day bespoke of fire and purification. The Scots took torches of heather and ran with them held high through the meadows and orchards at dawn to awaken them. Near dusk, Glenrogha's people returned to purify the fields and apple trees. Each carrying a fat woad candle, they formed a long line and paraded around them, chanting and singing.

The corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. Tamlyn was not taking part in either ceremony. His wife was otherwise occupied.

Needing a breath of fresh air, Julian climbed to the top of the lord's tower and watched the flickering lights snaking across the fields below. The site was beautiful, like faeries twinkling in the night. Oh, what he would not give to have his arms around his Tamlyn and share the beauty of the pagan ceremony with her. Next year. Next year he could stand here with Tamlyn and their son and watch. Growing impatient, Julian turned and went back inside, heading to the Great Hall . He glanced to the redheaded man standing by the fireplace—Tamlyn's father. Hadrian seemed as restless as he was and no more adept at hiding it.

"Any word?" Julian asked, but the reply was clear on the countenance of his father-by-marriage.

Hadrian exhaled and shook his head no.

The Earl had left two days after Samhaine , heading north with Andrew de Moray to the Moray strongholds. Before Yule , Tamlyn's father had returned late one night, wishing to see his daughters.

While Hadrian was still a vital, active man, Julian thought he would fare better at Glenrogha, rather than on the move, hiding during this harsh winter. The land and people suffered because of the summer-long drought. He finally talked the laird into spending the wintry season in Glen Shane. Since Tamlyn was in her final months of carrying their child, she had been able to entreat her father to remain at least until the birth of the babe.

Hadrian exhaled frustration and looked at him. "You be calmer about this than I."

"I am not calm, Hadrian."

"Then, you hide it better! That is my little girl up there. She makes me a grandfather for the first time. I suppose if it were Raven or Rowanne I might have an easier time of this. They are my elder daughters. In the natural course of events, you wouldst think they would be the first to have bairns. I saw them married. Mistakenly, I let them have their way, and in both cases, the marriages were failures. Raven thought she needed a gentle husband―something unlike her powerful father, I suppose. The bloody milksop died because of the damp. And Rowanne―" He looked around as if he wanted to hit something. "The tale be the past. One I shall regret to my dying day."

Julian still wondered about the death of the Lady Lochshane's husband―one topic Tamlyn was unwilling to discuss with him. He held his tongue. Hadrian was in a flux with his emotions over Tamlyn. The man did not need Julian giving him an outlet to vent those frustrations by dragging up ghosts of the past.

Hadrian's pale green eyes narrowed on him. "Will your brothers make them good husbands? They deserve such after what they have been through."

"They shall. With me wed to Tamlyn, and Damian to Aithinne, Edward is content Glen Shane is in my control. I granted leave for long betrothals. My brothers gifted the ladies until the spring to come to know them. Both of your daughters accepted the generous offer. 'Tis my presumption that they shall marry around Beltaine ."

Hadrian nodded. "That was kind of you. My daughters need time. One to finish her supposed grieving. The other to trust again."

Julian finally had to sit. He had been standing and pacing half the night. The servants were off to the Imbolg rites, save for those tending Tamlyn, so the tower was silent. He was tired, but knew there would be no breath of peace until he learned she and the babe were safe.

"I understand you likely wished for a higher born man for both women," Julian commented, rubbing his forehead where an ache was building.

It was fear. Fear for Tamlyn. He knew women often had problems, even died in childbirth. That anxiety chewed at him. Talking to her father was a distraction. Hadrian took the chair before the fire, opposite him.

"Guillaume and Destain are honorable men, well-liked and respected. They are Challon born, and to a woman of noble birth," Julian assured him.

Hadrian smiled. "They be brothers to the Dragon of Challon. If they are of the same mettle―which I have no doubt―I could choose no better than I did in selecting Tamlyn's lord and husband. I am not sure how I recognized you. I just knew you would be the man for my youngest daughter."

Julian nodded thanks for the approval. "I have raised my brothers up to barons. None would dare cast slur on your daughters. I paid handsomely for dispensations for both marriages."

"A man is not responsible for the circumstances of his birth. 'Tis how he shapes his fate that speaks of his worth. I know much of you, your brothers―the mighty Dragons of Challon. My daughters can be in no better hands."

A scream cut through the tower. Both men came to their feet. They looked up to the ceiling as if they could find the answer staring at stone and wood. Julian took a step to go to Tamlyn, but Hadrian caught his upper arm and stayed him.

"Bessa shall not brook a man underfoot. Believe me, I have been there. She chased me out with a hot poker when the twins came." Hadrian chuckled. "Bessa and Evelynour will care for Tamlyn."

Julian looked at the man's hand, considering the advice. But then, a second scream followed the first. He flung off the grip of Tamlyn's father, and took the stairs to the lord's chambers two at a time.

**

Julian held up his son, seeing the curly black hair, nearly as thick as his own. Tears filled his eyes as he touched the tiny head, stroked the soft curls. So perfect in every way. He lifted the plaide blanket and looked at the stem poking from his belly. "Take this... thing... off him. He is not a plant to be rooted," he demanded of Auld Bessa.

She clucked and shook her head. "Leave that be, Lord Challon. It will fall off when the time be right."

Julian's eyes looked at the tiny toes and gently stroked them. His daughter was beautiful. Daughter? He blinked, shocked to see he indeed had a daughter! Carefully scooping her up and cradling her in the curve of his arm, he stalked to the bed with his beautiful, precious daughter. "Wife, what is the meaning of this?"

Tamlyn weakly sat up, but frowned in pain. "Meaning of what, Challon?" she panted out, then grimaced hard again.

"This is a daughter, not a son," he stated the obvious.

Bessa chuckled. "Men," she muttered, as she folded padding and slid it under Tamlyn's legs, then rearranged the bedding.

"Aye, Challon. I am glad to see this ordeal has not affected your faculties." She ground another groan out through bared teeth, her hands clutching the bedding on either side of her. "If you do not wish to hold your daughter give her to Raven. "

Raven winked at her sister and started toward him. "Here, Lord Challon, I shall take the wee lass―"

Julian spun aside as she reached for his daughter. "I did not say the first word about not wanting. I am just surprised. Challons never have girl babes. They always breed sons. I never expected to have a daughter."

"You be in Scotland now, mighty Dragon," Tamlyn growled. "Wait until your daughter grows up, and I tell her you did not want her, that you preferred a son. She will make you so sorry!"

He again dodged Raven, trying to steal his tiny daughter. "You will do no such thing, wife. She is perfect. The first she-dragon of the Challons. She is special. Magical. But then, what else would she be when she was conceived under the boughs of the sacred apples, eh?"

Busy smiling at his tiny girl, it took time to register Tamlyn's pains were getting worse, not better. He glanced to Raven, who wiped Tamlyn's brow. "What ails her? Her pains increase. Something is not right?"

"Damn you, Challon! This is your fault!" Tamlyn moaned again, clearly in agony all anew.

The babe began to cry, as though she noticed her mother's distress. Raven flashed him a sour look and moved to take the baby. "Give me the lass, Lord Challon."

"My child is fine. Just expressing her feelings." Julian used his shoulder to keep her from taking his daughter from his arms. He glanced to Tamlyn who wailed like the Bansidhe. "Like her mother."

"Challon…" Tamlyn warned, eyeing him as if she wanted to sink her teeth into him.

"Tamlyn, what distresses you?" Julian felt panic rising in him again. She should not be having these agonies, he thought. Once the babe came, she should be resting. "What is wrong?"

Bessa barked. "Och, do no' be a useless male. Take your daughter into the solar and rock her."

"I am not budging until you tell me what plagues Tamlyn."

"You stupid lackwit!" his sweet Tamlyn growled. "I give birth."

Julian blinked, not grasping what she said. "Aye, she is a beautiful girl babe. She will be the Challon princess―"

"Put a rag in it, Challon. Oooooo―" Tamlyn reared back, seeming to grimace with her whole body. "No'...I...gave… I give …Oooooo… "

Raven glared at him. "Please step aside, Lord Challon. You only hinder things."

Bessa cackled. "Never kenned a man to be helpful when 'twas time for the coming of a bairn."

Lowering his brows, he frowned at the old woman. "Save the hot poker―answer me! What is the matter with my wife?"

"The lass gives birth to your bairn." Bessa shook her head, as if she did not believe his stupidity.

"She has already done that." He glanced down at the crying child, waving her fist angrily. A smile spread across his lips. He could feel it reforming his whole face. Then it nearly dropped off. "Another babe?"

" Och , My Lord Lackwit, it dawns…Grrrrrrrrrr." Tamlyn panted, as another contraction racked her body. "I do no' want to do this anymore…I am too tired, Challon."

Evelynour suddenly materialized at his side, carefully lifting his daughter from his arms. "I shall care for the wee lass. Go sit with Tamlyn. She shall need your strength."

Julian numbly sat on the bed's edge, worrying about Tamlyn. She looked exhausted, wane. "Come wife, you are a warrior true. We have another dragon waiting to see this world."

He let her take his wrists and use them to bear down on as the next contraction racked her muscles.

"Giving birth to dragons be bloody hard work, Challon. I shall make you pay for this."

Julian smiled. "I wouldst judge the price well worth it, my lady."

His strength seemed to flow into Tamlyn, fill her, for suddenly, she had the vigor to face the next round of pain. From that point, matters moved fast. This dragon wanted to come into the world quickly. Tamlyn only threatened him with bodily harm twice.

Bessa slapped the babe, and another Dragon of Challon voiced its opinion of this world. The child squalled, causing his daughter in turn to kick up a fuss in the solar. Swaddling the child, she handed the babe to him. "Your son wishes to greet his father."

"Son…" For the second time this night, Julian was humbled in awe at the miracle of his second child. Then he blinked. "Tamlyn, what is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, Challon, do shut up. I am busy." Bessa massaged Tamlyn's belly to expel the afterbirth. He could see Tamlyn was in no mood for his teasing questions. "You wanted a son. I bloody well gave you a son. Now hush."

"But he has your golden hair. All Challon sons have black hair. I suppose he will have your amber eyes, as well. Mayhap that faint clef in his chin." He tried to sound properly grumpy, but the grin betrayed him. His heart moved him to tears as he fingered the straight, fair locks.

"Challon, you want a black-haired son? You have my leave to give birth to one. I am tired. Two bairns in one day are enough." She lay back, closing her eyes, as Bessa pulled up the covers.

Hadrian opened the door, and paused to check if Bessa was near the fireplace poker. Seeing she was across the room from it, he entered. "So, am I allowed to see my grandson?"

Julian pushed aside the swaddling to reveal his boy.

" Och , he has Tamlyn's hair." Hadrian chuckled, a twinkle in his eye, as Julian covered the child up again and gave the babe over. "The Black Dragon now has a Golden Dragon for a son. How exciting!"

Julian strode into the solar and returned with his daughter. "But here is the most special gift. My wife not only gave me a son, but a daughter."

"Oh, what a little beauty." Hadrian immediately traded babies, so he could hold his granddaughter. "I am partial to girls. They are a joy."

Tamlyn called, "If you two are no' too busy, I wouldst like to see my son and daughter."

Julian sat on the bed's edge and shifted his fair son to his mother's arms. Her face softened and tears filled her eyes as she ran her finger over his toes. "Oh, Julian, he is so beautiful."

"Do not forget my granddaughter. She be the true beauty." Hadrian leaned to his daughter and brushed a kiss to her forehead. "You did well, Tamlyn."

**

A sennight later, Julian paced the floor, rocking his daughter. Her tiny face pruned up, then she gave a big yawn, closed her eyes, and drifted to sleep. He was endlessly fascinated with this tiny person. She had his black hair. He tried to imagine a female with that riot of blue-black waves. "Oh, you will give all the lads a merry chase."

"Challon, put that baby in the cradle. She needs her sleep," Tamlyn called from the bed, where she sat nursing his son .

"A son and a daughter. How lucky can one man get?" Julian marveled aloud. "Is not your mother the cleverest woman in the world?"

Ignoring his wife's order to put his daughter to bed, he sat on the bed cradling the tiny bundle on his lap. "We need to name her. I thank you for allowing me to name our son after my brother Christian, but our lass needs a name, too."

"I have gone through choices. Naught seems to fit."

The little girl began waving her fist again and fussing. Julian's finger stroked the soft skin of the arm, surprised when she grasped his finger. "Look, Tamlyn, she clutches my finger. I think she wants her brother to hurry. She is hungry. She is strong. A little warrior woman just like her mother. A pagan most likely. Glenrogha will pass to her?"

Tamlyn nodded. "My first daughter will follow me."

"Then, I shall have to build a castle at Kinmarch for our son." Julian smiled at the beautiful children, a gift. "Tamlyn, these two babes are half you and half me. A daughter like the father, a son like the mother. I think their names should reflect that. Since our son is Christian, what about naming our daughter Paganne?"

Tamlyn smiled as she removed her boy from her breast and switched babies with him. Instantly, their son set to squalling. "Tell Christian he must learn to share. His sister Paganne be famished, too."

"You like the names?"

"Aye, I think they are perfect."

Julian smiled she was pleased. "Mayhap next year you shall give me a black-haired son and we can name him after your father."

"You can go shovel horse dung, my lord husband. I shall give you a black-haired son when it pleases me. I just went through this. I am not eager to rush into labor again."

Julian leaned to Tamlyn kissing her softly, slowly. " Beltaine shall near soon. The apple trees will bloom. Will you dance for me before the balefire."

"Oh, do hush gloating, Challon, and kiss me."

"Aye, my lady."