In The Beginning, Gail Daley [red white royal blue .TXT] 📗

Sylvie survived the trip down into the valley, but she was running a fever, and seemed to grow weaker every hour. Catrin kept her and the baby in the infirmary, and Lela found a wet nurse for Mikel among the villagers. The girl had lost her fisherman husband at sea, and was glad to have a comfortable place for herself and her baby in Ironlyn.

When Logan came to visit Sylvie, he found Lela and Catrin quite concerned about her. "She has developed childbirth fever," Catrin told him. "I believe her womb was damaged by the multiple rapes, and she was weakened by carrying the child. The constant running without adequate rest didn't help either."

She saw guilt flash across his face, and laid a hand on his arm. "You took the best care you could of her and Mikel. Don't blame yourself. Those truly to blame are the Proctors. The birthing was hard as well. I'm doing what I can, but honestly the outlook isn't good."

He turned hard eyes on her. "You are saying she might die."

Catrin slapped the counter in front of her in frustration. "Yes. There is so much I don't know!"

"May I sit with her?"

"Yes, of course."

Logan sat beside Sylvie’s bed until she woke. He knelt beside her, talking in a low voice. Catrin was too far away to hear their discussion, but she saw the girl lift her hand and touch his face. When her hand fell. Logan dropped his head onto the blanket.

A healer's second sense sent Catrin to the bed. Sylvie's pale face looked peaceful, almost as if she were asleep. Catrin picked up her wrist and checked for a pulse.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I tried to save her, but—"

"I know," he said without raising his head. "I think I knew when I found her. She stayed alive for her son. She wanted him to grow up free of the Proctors. She tried so hard for him. I promised her I would take him as my son and raise him." He lifted his head a looked at her. "Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. What do I know about raising a child?"

"Not stupid," Catrin said, patting his shoulder. "You have a loving heart. You aren't alone, Logan. I will help you and so will everyone here."

The next morning, they held Sylvie's funeral pyre. Lela had managed to find some late fall flowers to put on the grave. Logan was surprised to find Catrin had bundled Mikel up and brought him to say goodbye to his mother.

"He won't remember," Logan protested.

"When he is older he can be told he said goodbye to her," she replied. "It's more than Rebecca, Owen and I were able to do."

After discussing it with Lewys, Andre approached Logan about hiring on with them.

"It won't be an easy job," Andre warned him. "Lewys is still hoping it won't happen, but I'm sure we are going to have to fight the Magi Proctors before this is over. On the other side, this is the safest place for Mikel, and you won't be facing the Proctors alone."

"Thank you. I would like that. Who do I swear to, you or the old man?"

"It's the same thing. Rebecca and I are going to be married before long. You know the Merc oath?"

Logan nodded. He put his clenched right hand to his shoulder and said, "Drake Andre, I swear my life and my honor to obey you and defend you and yours for the term of my service."

Andre did the same. "You do me honor. I accept your service to myself and my family, Logan Silvermane. In turn, I pledge myself and my family to treat you fairly, and to ensure if you die in my service, your family will be mine and I will care for them as my own."

"I can't raise a baby in the barracks. Can I move into one of the cottages?"

"There is no need. Rebecca wants you and Mikel to move into the keep. The girl Catrin hired as a wet nurse is willing to stay on as his nursemaid."

Logan hesitated, and said, "You said you think a battle is coming. Would you be willing to offer sanctuary to more Wild Magi fighters?"

"Your companions in the Wild Magi you mean?"

"Yes. Several of them would welcome a place where we don't have to constantly run and hide."

"They would have to take the Merc Oath," Andre warned.

Logan nodded. "I will make sure they understand."

As the summer wore on, the inhabitants of Ironlyn grew accustomed to different shapes appearing overhead, as first Andre and then Rebecca practiced creating different contours with the Wards and controlling them.

Logan started classes on Magi skills for anyone who had any talent. He also suggested adding any boys or girls who were old enough be trained as well to the fighting drills, and Andre had agreed.

As the warm days slid by, Rebecca, Catrin and many of the wives and daughters often came out to watch the classes when the men were demonstrating wrestling or other self defense techniques.

"Admit it," Catrin teased her sister, "You just like to watch Andre's muscles."

Rebecca's face heateed up, but she had an answer ready. "Well, I notice you come out more often when Logan is competing," she retorted, delighted when Catrin blushed.

When Andre had turned over the Magi classes to Logan, Serle had been furious at being reduced to teaching only basic educational material, but his grandfather told him not to be foolish.

"Logan Silvermane is one of the Wild Magi," he reminded his grandson. "They earn their livelihood by hiring out to fight the Magi battles the Proctors turn down. Lewys is right to use his skills. You and I should probably take advantage of his knowledge as well."

"If your friend Lewys isn't careful, he is going to find everyone in Ironlyn answers to that damned Merc instead of him, Grandfather," Serle told him.

"Lewys is afraid we are going to end up fighting the Magi Proctors," Mort protested. "Andre has a stake in this