This is part 3 of a continuing story that is becoming more and more twisted as the words come out. I hope you enjoyed parts 1 and 2. If you have not read those you might want to before jumping into this one.
This story is set in medieval times in a fantasy world that does not exist. Any resemblance to people real or imagined is purely coincidental. If any characters in this story actually did exist, and they were involved in the sexual scenes described, they would be eighteen years of age or older.
Thanks for your continued support and comments.
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Ian hauled several loads of wood into the chamber along with a few buckets of coal from the kitchen. Ayra watched him silently, her expression one of reluctant worry. Afterward he fed the horse with some grain he had found in the cellar. With nothing else to do, and Ayra taking another nap, Ian made his way into the more collapsed section of the building, hoping to find a king's treasure.
Climbing through the debris was difficult, and he ended up backtracking several times. He didn't find a king's treasure, but he did find a chest filled with bolts fine linen and what appeared to be a pair of silver goblets. He also found a fine chain shirt the likes of which he had never seen. The woven metal felt more like fabric than steel, and it made no sound when he shook it. He figured between it and the goblets he might get enough to put a down payment on a small farm.
It would be a start, a start for him and Ayra, and his sister, a start somewhere, anywhere but under the thumb of his uncle. Ian made his way back to the chamber, hopeful in what he had found. At least the foraging had distracted him from the situation at hand, and the incident from the previous night had faded to little more than a wishful memory.
The smell hit him before he even stepped into the chamber. As Ian opened the door, his senses were overwhelmed with the odor of fresh bread. Ayra was sitting on the bed a pot at her feet as she peeled potatoes and dropped them in. She looked up at him and smiled.
"I went to the kitchen while you were gone." She said, gesturing at the items strewn about the room.
"I found some potatoes and turnips that were still good, as well as some flour. There was something else as well." She said, nodding toward a large wooden tub sitting in the corner.
Ian looked at it and back at her questioningly.
"It's a bathing tub! I already have it half full, there's another pot of water on the fire, and two more waiting. A hot bath should definitely convince your sister it is time." She said, pausing to rub her swollen stomach as she smiled.
"Where did you get the water?" Ian said.
"In the kitchen. There's a hand pump. It draws water from the ground."
"You should not have..." Ian started, trying to sound stern.
"Don't be silly. I was hoping the exercise might convince her it is time. That didn't work, so I am hoping the hot bath will."
"I don't know, Ayra. It seems like a lot to go through just to give birth. And what happens if it doesn't work."
"It will work!" Ayra said, staring at me fearfully.
"But what if it doesn't? I mean, what's the rush. Yesterday you were so calm, like everything was fine."
"She has stopped moving!" Ayra said, the knife dropping from her hand. "She has to be born; I have to convince her it is time!"
"Alright, I'm sorry." Ian said, walking over and placing his hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him, her hand reaching up to grab his. She pulled his fingers to her lips and kissed them as she stared up at him, tears forming in her eyes.
"Besides, didn't you say I needed convincing, that father had to convince me? Perhaps I could convince my sister?"
"No!" Ayra said, suddenly pulling her hand away. "The hot bath will work, it has to work."
She started to rise, but Ian put his hand on her shoulder and eased her back onto the bed. She looked up at him, and he saw the concern in her eyes. Once again she tried to stand but he stopped her.
"You just relax. I will heat the rest of the water. The bath will work, just like you said."
Ian gently pushed her back onto the bed then pulled the furs over her as he tried to understand why she was so concerned. The water in the pot was almost boiling, so he quickly swapped it out for the next pot then added some wood to the fire before emptying the hot water into the tub.
As he built up the fire, the water heated quickly, as did the room, until he was sweating profusely. Ian pulled off his shirt and hung it on the bed then positioned the last pot of water by the fire, hoping to at least preheat it.
Remembering the things he had found, Ian grabbed the trunk from outside the door and brought it inside. Ayra heard him and sat up, smiling as he carried the trunk over to the bed.
"So, you have found the king's treasure?" she laughed. It was a forced laugh, but a laugh none the less.
Her smile lightened his heart and for a moment things seemed like old times. He pulled the lid open and pulled out the goblets.
"They are silver, I think." Ian said, as he handed them to her.
"And finely made, they will fetch a good price." Ayra replied, holding one up and examining it.
"And these bolts of cloth, they should be worth something." he said, pulling out the linen.
"Our future is secure." She laughed, running her hand across the fabric.
"And this." Ian said, pulling out the chain shirt soundlessly. "I think it might have some value as well."
