As late summer became early fall, Rose's belly increased with the rest of Honnleath's harvest, though her overseeing of Amalia's education did not slacken in the least. Then, on the fifteenth day of Harvestmere, Amalia came to the house and could not find Rose in the garden, parlor or kitchen. A groan sounded from the bedroom.
"Amalia! In here!" Amalia opened the door and peered in. Rose was in her nightgown, hanging onto the bed-post her face flushed.
"Thank the Maker you've come! The baby is coming! My water broke this morning, shortly after Leto left. Briar is with him, or I'd have sent her after him. Please go get Mistress Tirsden and my husband, will you?"
Amalia moved to her side and grabbed her arm. "Shouldn't you lie down?"
"Not yet," Rose gasped. "It helps to walk as long as you can. I saw enough babies…born in the house to know that." She gritted her teeth against a contraction. "Go on now, Amalia!"
"I'll be back quick as I can!" Amalia bolted back up the path towards Honnleath and Moira Tirsden's house.
The midwife was unimpressed with Amalia's panic. She got what few details Amalia could tell her and began packing her bag with what Matthias' daughter thought was glacial slowness.
"You need to hurry!" Amalia panted.
"No, I don't. First baby, older woman. We'll be doing this a while. You run and get Leto-I'll be over there before you're back with him."
As luck would have it, Rose's husband would be on the very far side of Farrin Marsh's farthest field, a mile away. Amalia was so out of breath by the time that she got there that she could do little but pant "Rose! Baby! Now!" But that was enough to send the elf pelting across the field at an incredible pace for someone who had been digging potatoes all day. Amalia followed more slowly, interspersing brief jogs with periods of walking to try and catch her breath.
By the time she got to Rose's house, not only was Moira Tirsden there, but Goody Aoife, Mistress Shadwell and Mistress Murray. They were setting up something of a command center in the kitchen, setting water to boil and talking in scandalized tones.
"Oi never saw the like of it," Goody Aoife said in her reedy voice, "in all the years Oi been alive! A man in the birthing chamber!"
"And she wanted him in there!" came Deanna Shadwell's shocked response. "I do like Rose, but it almost seems…indecent."
"Maybe it's something to do with her…former profession," said Mistress Murray. "Rose has certainly cleaned her life up, but I suppose that indecency doesn't bother her the way it would us."
"Leto's from Tevinter. For all we know, that's how they do things there," Amalia said, seating herself on one of the kitchen chairs. Mistress Shadwell smiled kindly.
"Amalia dear, are you sure you want to be here?" There was an audible groan from the other room. "I'm not sure this is the place for a young lady to be."
"Whyever not?" snorted old Aoife. "Good for her to see the consequences of taking a man between her legs if you ask me! Keep her honest!"
"Aoife! Really!" Patience Murray exclaimed. Amalia just smiled.
"I don't mind. I want to stay. Rose is my friend."
"From what Moira said, we may be here a while," Deanna Shadwell said. "Maybe all night."
"I still want to."
"Very well then." She pulled a pack of cards out of her purse. "Anyone up for a game of Wicked Grace? We can play for coppers."
Rose labored through what was left of the afternoon and into the night. The women sent endless amounts of boiled water and clean linen into the bedroom. The next morning, just after dawn, her little girl was born. Amalia had not been allowed into the birthing chamber, but she could hear some of what was going on. Rose had been remarkably quiet for a laboring woman, according to the audience of helpers. Not a single scream had passed her lips. And Amalia learned far more that night than she wanted to about pregnancy, labor and childbirth, as the women of Honnleath regaled her with tales of their own experiences and the experiences of other women they had known. When it was over, she began to think that Rose's sister might have had the right idea. Living like a Chantry sister didn't sound so bad after all…
A couple of hours after the baby was born, Amalia was allowed in to see Rose. The former whore looked exhausted, her pretty face puffy and beautiful hair lank. Nonetheless, she managed to convey a sense of radiant happiness as she stared down at the infant, determinedly suckling its thumb. The child looked to have its mother's strawberry hair, though the color of the eyes could not be determined. Leto was sitting beside the bed, looking both poleaxed and proud.
"A fine baby girl, healthy and strong," Moira Tirsden said with approval. Amalia privately thought that the child was a wizened little red horror, though she was aware that babies improved with age. The infant's ears did point the slightest bit, as did her head.
"She's very pretty," she offered politely.
Rose's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "No, she's not. But she will be soon. She's going to be lovely."
"What are you going to name her?" Amalia asked, and was unsurprised when Leto's deep voice said, "Bethany."
Rose recovered from the birth remarkably well. "You could do this again a couple more times, in all likelihood, before your womb shuts down," Mistress Tirsden said during one of her post-partum visits. Rose glanced over at Leto, whose green eyes were white all around, and laughed.
"Don't scare the poor man, Moira! And I'm thinking I'm not in any hurry myself, if you must know."
Amalia came over every day to "do" for her and Rose insisted upon continuing her lessons, though they were by necessity abbreviated. It was getting too cold to take little Bethany out, so Rose would leave her with Leto, who was done with farm-work for the season, and they would do as much as they could while the baby was asleep.
And for the first time, Amalia got to see Rose do magic. She was, as she had represented herself, not a strong power, though Amalia could not fault her for precision and control. She used her ashwood staff precisely as a surgeon's scalpel. They did some games where they would follow each other with spells, Winter's Grasp and Stonefist particularly, and Rose even showed Amelia a little Force magic, how to repel or attract small objects together. She had some wooden balls she used for that. Amalia couldn't do it at all, but she enjoyed watching Rose do her tricks.
"It might come to you one day, and it's more likely to if you know what's possible," Rose said, unperturbed at Amalia's failure. "So much of magic is about belief. Don't feel badly-most people don't pick up Force magic until they're much further along." She waggled her fingers. "It's more…nebulous, harder to grasp. But it's the same thing that makes you fall off a cliff and it can kill people just as dead as fire." Seeing Amalia's surprised look, Rose grinned.
"Not that I'd know from experience. I kept my head low, remember? Just a figure of speech."
Bethany was a month old and the first flakes of snow were falling when the mercenaries came to Honnleath. Because of the weather, no one was out in the fields to give warning, and the first thing anyone knew of it in the town was the sound of heavy, booted feet and racous shouting.
Matthias peered out through the front curtain and paled. Amalia had been about to go to the Thornwell's and had been headed to the door. He stopped her.
"Out the back, and quickly, Amalia! Go to Rose and Leto and stay with them! I don't know what these men want, but it can't be good and you and Rose are good-looking women. You should all probably go to the mill and stay there until this sorts out. If you see any of the children, take them with you, but don't stop to look for them! Go!"
"But Father…"
"We won't fight them. There are too many. They probably just want our food. We'll give it to them and they'll go. But you stay away until someone comes to get you. Promise me!"
"I promise!"
Her father kissed her forehead and shoved her staff into her hand. "I love you, butterfly! Now fly!"
Amalia ran, as fast as she'd ever run in her life. Glancing over her shoulder through the gaps between houses, she could see armed men breaking into houses and chivvying the inhabitants of Honnleath out into the street.
"Amalia!" came a soft voice from behind a nearby hedgerow. She halted her headlong flight. The Murray children, little Ric and Charity, seven and nine years old respectively, poked their heads up.
"What's happening?" Charity asked, her eyes wide and cheeks red with cold. "We were playing hide-and-seek but then we saw the men and got scared. They're not the arl's soldiers, are they?"
"No, they're bad men. You can't go back into town. Father said to go to Mistress Rose and Leto-they'll take care of us."
"But what about Mama and Papa?" Ric wailed.
"Hush, Ric!" Amalia hissed, but it was too late. One of the soldiers had seen them and was plunging between the houses to pursue them. He seemed an ordinary enough looking fellow though a bit rough-looking, neither ugly nor handsome, in a rusty brigandine. But there was a sinister glitter in his eyes as he looked at Amalia and his sword was out.
"Hey there, Honey-hair!" he leered. "Where do you think you're going? Back to the square with everyone else. I'm sure the captain will be glad to see you!"
Fear and repugnance flooded Amalia. Her gorge and her staff rose at the same moment and almost without thought the power raised, was focused and slammed outward.
The soldier was at short range and froze, encased in a solid block of ice. Amalia's follow-through was pure reflex, ingrained over months of training. Stone-fist lashed out next and the soldier shattered.
Rose had described the effect and they'd even joked about it. But no dry description could have prepared Amalia for the reality of seeing frozen pieces of a human scattered before her on the brown grass, the realization that there was a bone sticking out of that piece and Maker! Was that a stomach? And the head was over there, all by itself…When things thawed out there was going to be a mess…She promptly emptied her own stomach over the remains.
"Euuuw, Amalia!" Ric moaned in disgust. "You threw up!"
"Yes, I did," she said, wiping her mouth with a shaky hand.
"Amalia," Charity said, her voice awe-struck. "You just killed that man!"
Amalia nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes. I did."
The children came out to her and took her hands and they all began to run. Amalia was shaking and her knees were trembling, but she managed to stagger along.
The farmhouse came in sight. Amalia burst through the door, children in tow. Rose came out of the bedroom, Bethany in her arms. She frowned when she saw Amalia's shaken expression.
"What is going on, Amalia? Briar came back a little while ago, growling and with hackles raised. Leto was about to go out and see what had happened." Leto came out of the bedroom behind her. The children gasped and Amalia's jaw dropped.
He was in armor, black, spiky armor and there was a sword slung over his back that was almost as tall as he was. He should have looked absurd, but he didn't-he looked dangerous.
He was a bodyguard in Tevinter, Rose had said. He certainly looked the part.
"Amalia?" Rose prodded gently, her face kind.
"There are men in the village. Soldiers. But they're not Seekers or Templars or the arl's men. They're rough-looking sorts."
"Mercenaries, perhaps," Leto mused. "Looking for a place to hole up for the winter, most like." The advantage to being far off the beaten path was that Honnleath was difficult to find. The disadvantage was that it was also out of sight, out of mind to the nearest authority, which was Arl Teagan at Redcliffe. Which made it a highly desirable hide-out.
"They're breaking into houses and making everyone come outside. Father told me to come and stay with you. To go to the mill and stay there until things blew over. He said that they probably just wanted our food."
"And if they take it, then what are we supposed to eat all winter?" Rose asked. "How many of them are there?"
"I don't know. I didn't get a chance to count, Father pushed me out the door so fast."
"Amalia killed one of them!" little Ric declared with bloodthirsty relish. "She froze him and threw magic rocks at him and he broke into tiny little pieces! Then she threw up all over him," he added with less enthusiasm.
"Really, Amalia?" came the soft question.
"Yes, Rose. I'm sorry! It just happened by reflex. He was…leering at me, said his captain would be glad to see me and I figured I knew what he meant…it just sort of happened!"
"I suspect you were exactly right about his intentions," came Rose's calm response. "Leto?"
Her husband went to the parlor sideboard. Leto liked good wine, Amalia knew that much from the disparaging comments he'd made about what was available in Ferelden. But what he poured into a glass was brandy. He brought it to her and she took the glass carefully from his spiky, gauntleted hand. When he saw how her hand was shaking, he stripped the gauntlet and shoved it into his belt, then braced her hand with his to help her drink.
His fingers were oddly warm. Was it her imagination, or were his tattoos glowing?
"The first one is the most difficult," came that beautiful voice. "You are a warrior now."
Rose looked at her husband as Amalia drank. "Change of plans, love." Their eyes met and held for a moment. Leto sighed.
"Are you sure?"
Rose nodded. Amalia finished the brandy and set her glass down on the sideboard. The warmth burning in her stomach was helping with the shaking. Rose smiled at her.
"Here Amalia, sit down by the fire and take Bethany," she said, indicating the rocking chair by the fire. "I'll be back in a little bit."
Amalia did as she was bidden, accepting Bethany's sleepy, warm weight in her lap. The child seemed very content. Rose had probably just fed her.
Rose vanished into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Leto took up a station by one of the windows, looking out. He looked deceptively relaxed and watchful, but Amalia got the idea that he could move very swiftly, should trouble begin.
Ric and Charity moved closer to the fire, taking their mittens and coats off and draping them over a nearby chair. They watched Leto with wide eyes. Briar came over by the fire and flopped down near to them, shoving her head under Charity's hand in an appeal for petting. Soon both children were stroking the mabari.
From the sound of things, Rose was doing quite a bit of rummaging though a wardrobe or chest. Then that noise stopped, and a muffled curse sounded through the door.
"Is something wrong, love?" Leto called.
"I'm bigger up top!" came the exasperated answer.
Leto's eyes never left the window, but Amalia saw his lips curl up into small smile.
"I had noticed."
The door opened. Rose Thornwell, new mother, had gone into that room. What came out was…Amalia couldn't decide.
If Rose was wearing mage robes, they weren't like any mage robes she had ever seen before. They looked more like armor. In fact parts of them were armor, and parts were fur. Like Leto's armor, they looked cruel and spikey, and her pleasant face, hooded now, seemed out of place above them.
Ric and Charity gasped and scooted back a bit. Rose gave them a reassuring smile.
"It's all right, children. I need to wear this to go take care of the bad men." She crossed the parlor and opened the other bedroom. "Ric, Charity, come in here. Briar, you too."
The mabari got up and led the children into the bedroom. Rose gestured under the bed.
"Charity, I want you and Ric to hide under here and keep Bethany with you, all right? Do you think you can do that? Briar is going to hide with you too and protect you."
Charity nodded. "Yes, Mistress Rose." Rose addressed the mabari.
"Briar, guard the children." Briar barked an affirmative.
Handing Charity a small brass key, she said, "This is the key to the bedroom. I've got one too. I want you to stay under this bed and I'm going to lock you in. Don't make a sound and don't unlock the door until someone you know is on the other side. Do you understand?" Charity nodded. "Very well then, I know that the two of you are very good at hide-and-seek. This is sort of the same thing." The children began to slide under the bed. "Amalia, give Bethany to me and go get the sugar-tit out of the kitchen. Charity, if Bethany starts to cry, give her the sugar-tit to keep her quiet."
"Yes, Mistress Rose." Amalia handed Rose her daughter and went to do as she'd been told. When she returned, Rose had taken Bethany to Leto. The two of them kissed their daughter on her brow and Rose handed the baby back to Amalia, as well as the key.
"Put her under the bed, please, Amalia and lock the children in." Amalia did so. Briar curled her body around the baby and grinned at Amalia.
"Do you want to stay here, Amalia, or do you want to come with us?" Rose asked when she was done. "There is no guarantee of safety either way. Your best chance might be to take the children and go to the mill as your father said. But I won't send them without you. It's too cold."
"You lied to Father, didn't you? You are a battlemage."
"Yes, I did and yes, I am."
"Are you any good?" Leto snorted a soft laugh.
"I'm still alive, aren't I?" came Rose's mild response. "That's good enough."
"I want to go with you."
"I thought that you might. Very well then, but stay back a little." Rose went back into the bedroom and came out with a thick, quilted knee-length robe of grey sashed in red. She threw it to Amalia. "Here, put this on. It will give you some protection." She also had a staff that wasn't her usual staff in her hand. It was the most sinister thing Amalia had ever seen, a plain ebon sweep of wood or perhaps metal, capped with three snarling dragon heads.
Amalia struggled into the robe. Rose stepped up to her husband's side. They matched, looked right together as if they'd done this sort of thing countless times before. She looked back at Amalia and her face was changed to that of a stranger; colder and focused with a raptor intensity. Suddenly the robes suited her.
"Let's go."