Baby woke her with a shrill scream of hunger. Sun had barely risen, and the sheep were still sleeping. She picked up the baby and walked to them, choosing a sheep, which was resting with a lamb. Pushed the lamb aside and held the baby so that she could suckle milk from the sheep. Animal didn’t either notice that it wasn’t the lamb, or didn’t care, but let the baby fill her belly.
“Kill the lamb… Take the sheep with you… More milk for the baby that way…” The executioner’s thick voice reached her when she stood up, holding the baby up against her shoulder.
“I’ll do that. But we can’t leave yet. I have to check your wound.”
“Don’t bother… Already did it… I’m not coming with you,” he grunted, shifting on to a better position and gasping, nearly toppling over.
She lowered the baby on a soft patch of moss and hurried to his side. The apron she had used to tie his wound was sticky and heavy from his blood. When she moved to remove it the executioner grasped her wrist.
“Don’t… Just take the baby and leave… I need the horse, but if you take the sheep and saddlebags you should be just fine until you reach the next town…”
“Logan…”
“Smell that?” The executioner asked. She had tried to block out the stench wafting from his wound, but when he pointed it out it was impossible to ignore.
“I’m already dead… I’ll take the horse… Leave a good track for them to follow and ride as far as I can…”
“No.”
“Yes, Marie.”
“But Logan…”
“Not a good time to argue… Do as I tell you, wife… Take the baby and go!”
“I love you.” She stood clutching the baby against her left shoulder, saddlebags thrown over her right, holding the leash of the sheep in a tight grip of her right hand.
“And I love you, little wife… Now get the hell away from here, I have some things to take care of…” The executioner rasped. Air was rattling in his lungs. He nearly cried out and forced himself upright, reaching for the reigns of his stallion. Animal huffed and shook its mane, nostrils flaring and eyes rolling from the stench of death wafting from him, but it stood still when he dragged himself on the saddle.
She turned away and started walking. She couldn’t watch.
She didn’t know how long, or how far she walked. All she knew was that she had stopped three times already to feed the baby. There was no night or day for her. Only forest and the baby, who kept observing her, huge curious eyes fixed to her face. She knew she was crying, and felt the need to explain her behavior.
“Mommy’s sad because daddy had to go away… But don’t you worry. We’re going to get through this. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
She was going to get through everything life had stored for her. She had already gotten through the worst the world had to offer, things could only get better from here. The weather was warming rapidly. She had food. She had milk for the baby. She had the baby. At the next town she could sell the sheep and the executioner’s clothes. With the money she could secure a room for her and the baby for a few days and start looking for people willing to hire a skillful maid.
And there was something more. She hadn’t been barren as she had thought. There was no way mistaking the nausea and bouts of weakness for anything else. She was pregnant. The girl she was carrying on her arms would get a baby brother or a baby sister from the life the executioner had given for her.
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