And now she had left this wee one behind.
Darius retucked the blanket and realized that the swaddling cloth was the only way the female had acknowledged her impending birth. Indeed, she herself had made this coverlet that her new daughter was wrapped in. It was the only interest she had taken in the pregnancy. . . likely because she had known this would be the outcome.
All along, she had known what she was going to do.
The young's wide eyes stared up at him, her brows arching in concentration, and with a sense of grave burden, he recognized how vulnerable this bundle was--left on her own to the cold, she would die in a matter of hours.
He had to do the right thing by her. That was all that mattered.
He had to take care of her and do right by her. She had started with so much against her and now she was an orphan.
Dearest Virgin Scribe. . . he would do the right thing by her if it was his last action on earth.
There was a shuffling sound, and as Darius looked over his shoulder, he saw that Tohrment had wrapped the female's body in the sheeting and gathered her into his arms.
"I shall take care of her," the boy said. Except. . . his voice was not that of a boy. It was of a fully grown male. "I. . . shall care for her. "
For some odd reason, the way he held her head was the only thing Darius could see: That big, strong hand of Tohrment's was cradling the departed as surely as if she lived, holding her as if comforting her to his chest.
Darius cleared his throat and worried whether his shoulders were strong enough to bear this weight. However would he complete his next breath. . . the next beat of his heart. . . the next step that must needed to happen?
For truth, he had failed. He had gotten the female free but ultimately, he had failed her. . . .
Except then he dug deep and turned to face his protege. "The apple tree. . . "
Tohrment nodded. "Yes. That is what I thought. Beneath the apple tree. I shall take her there now and to hell with this storm. "
It was not a surprise that the boy would battle the elements to bury the female. He no doubt needed the exertion to ease his agony. "She shall enjoy the blooms in the spring and the sound of the birds that light upon the boughs. "
"What of the babe?"
"We shall care for her, too. " Darius stared down into that small face. "By giving her to ones who shall look after her as she deserves. "
Indeed, they could not keep her here. They were out all night fighting, and the war did not stop for personal loss. . . . The war did not
stop for anything or anybody. Besides, she needed things two males, however well intended, could not provide.
She required a mother's succor.
"Is it night yet?" Darius asked roughly as Tohrment turned for the door.
"Yes," the male said as he unlatched the lock. "And I fear it will be ever so. "
The door swung open, blown asunder by the wind, and Darius curled himself around the babe. When the gust was shut off, he looked down at the tiny new life.
Tracing her features with his fingertips, he worried over what the years ahead had in store for her. Would they be kinder than the circumstances of her birth?
He prayed that they would. He prayed that she found a male of worth to protect her and that she bore young and lived as a normal within their world.
And he would do whatever he could to ensure that.
Including. . . giving her away.
Chapter Seventy-one
As night fell the following evening over the Brotherhood's mansion, Tohrment, son of Hharm, strapped on his weapons and got his jacket from his closet.
He was not going out to fight, and yet he felt as if he were facing a kind of enemy. And he was going alone. He'd told Lassiter to chill and get a manipedi or some shit, because there were some things you just needed to do by yourself.