Kit looked up finally when she heard the latch click. She and Gilon exchanged a rare smile.
Gilon hastened over, peering anxiously first at Rosamun's bed, then at the cradle, then at the infant in Kit's arms. The look on his face blended pride with confusion.
'Twins, is it twins? How is Rosamun? How are they doing? What can I do to help?' Plaintively he gestured with his big, clumsy hands.
'You have to go out and get some goat's milk, right away,' Kit advised. 'Minna said it was the only thing the babies could drink, and I think we have to credit her on that one. Then we have to wake Mother-'
'Just a minute. Just a minute,' Gilon interrupted, still anxious. 'I don't even know about my children. Are there two?' he repeated. 'Twins?'
'Yes, two boys.' Kitiara surprised herself by saying it with as much satisfaction as if she were the mother.
Again Gilon walked over to the cradle, beaming down at his first born, who was beginning to stir. Then he came to Kit, who continued to rub and comfort the second infant.
'Shhhhh,' she cautioned. 'This is the weaker one.'
Outside, it was dark. Inside, the only light came from the dying fire. Hurriedly, Gilon lit two oil lamps, which cast huge, dancing shadows on the cottage walls.
'We had a hard time of it,' Kit confessed, covering up her relief that it was over with a matter-of-fact tone. 'Mother lost a lot of blood. I think she'll be all right. The first baby, he's strong. But this one, he will have to be watched closely.'
Gilon moved to Rosamun's bed and tenderly sat next to her, taking her hand. Her face was drained of all color. She lay still, breathing shallowly. When he brushed her forehead with his lips, she didn't stir. Baby sounds of grunts and snuffles drew Gilon away from his wife's side to the cradle.
'I'd better go get that milk before we have a rebellion on our hands.' He pulled on his jacket, then came to stand next to Kit, putting his hand on her shoulder. Kit reacted hesitantly. She and her stepfather rarely touched. Gilon gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave on his errand.
He paused at the door. 'Rosamun and I had decided on Caramon as the name if we had a boy,' he told Kit, almost apologetically. 'It means strength of the vallenwoods. It was my grandfather's name. A good name, don't you think?' After a pause, he smiled and added, 'But we're going to need some ideas for the other boy. Why don't you see if you can think of a name to help us out?'
Pleased as a kender at a county fair with being asked to participate in the naming, Kit felt the color rise to her cheeks. She replied solemnly that she would give it some thought.
Gilon returned with the goat's milk to find Kit jiggling one infant in her arms and using her foot to rock the cradle, whose occupant had started issuing piercing, hungry-sounding cries. He made two bottles from slender jars fitted with the skin from the teat of a dead ewe. Picking up the squalling baby Caramon, the new father held him as he sucked at the bottle vigorously.
Kitiara wished her charge were half as energetic. She had to coax the second-born twin to take the nipple, and he had a difficult time keeping milk down. Breathing seemed to sap most of his energy. What with spitting up and fussing, Kitiara worried that he barely seemed to get any of the milk into his system at all.
Eventually, both infants drifted off to sleep. Kit was still holding the smaller one. 'I have a name,' she ventured.
'And what do you recommend?' Gilon asked, matching Kit's serious tone.
'Raistlin.'
'Hmm. Raistlin,' Gilon repeated. 'I like the sound of it, Raistlin and Caramon. But what does it mean?'
'Oh, nothing really. I mean, I don't know for sure. I must have heard it somewhere.'
Kit didn't tell Gilon that Raistlin was the name of the hero in the made-up stories Gregor sometimes told her at bedtime. Most of Gregor's stories were true ones about himself, or epic legends of the fabled figures of Krynn. But there was one tale he liked to tell that Kit believed her father had made up. Its installments went on and on, and Gregor had never finished telling it, probably because there was no ending. And because he had left.
The Raistlin of her father's stories was not the bravest or the strongest warrior, but he was clever and had a will of iron. Over and over he used his wits to best superior opponents.
If Caramon's name meant strength of the trees, Raistlin's would stand for cunning and will power, Kit thought.
Gilon pondered the choice. Once again he roamed to Rosamun's bedside. Kit's mother had yet to open her eyes. He realized that it might be some time before Rosamun could voice an opinion. Gilon smiled at Kit as he uttered his verdict.
'Raistlin… I think that will do nicely.'
An hour or two later, Kit was still by the hearth, holding Raistlin, while Gilon was just finishing the long, involved job of giving Rosamun a sponge bath, then changing her bedding and clothes.
The town watch had called midnight long ago. Out the window, Lunitari, the red moon, had risen high in the sky. It shared the night canopy with Solinari, which was in its arc of descent. Sitting up with Raistlin by the fire, Kit must have dozed off. She woke with a start when the baby Raistlin drew a particularly harsh breath.
Time to give Mother her tea,' Kit said, so tired she blurred the words.
Gilon, sitting on the edge of Rosamun's bed, looked over It the girl and suddenly realized how exhausted she was. Her stepfather took Raistlin and sent her off to bed. Kit's legs felt so heavy she could barely climb the ladder that led up to her bedroom above the rear of the common room. It was really just a small space she had fashioned for herself in the grain storage loft tucked under the roof of the cottage.
Behind burlap sacks full of grains and other dry goods stood her cot and small dresser. The single window, low under the eaves, offered a splendid view of the crisscrossing vallenwood branches. In the summer, Kit could look out and feel like she was floating on a cloud of leaves. She endured the extra summer heat and the coldness under the eaves during the winter because of the luxury of privacy her loft space afforded her in the cramped cottage.
Once she got up to her room, Kit went to her dresser and pulled it away from the wall, then felt behind it for the hidden shelf.
Carefully, Kitiara drew out a worn piece of parchment. Unrolling it, she gazed at an ink drawing of what she knew to be the emblem of a Knight of Solamnia. In the pale stream of moonlight that came through her window, Kit saw hawk talons, an arrow, and an eye-shaped orb.
After some minutes, Kit re-rolled the parchment and put it away. She fell onto her cot, clothes and all, and collapsed into a deep sleep.
That first night, Caramon slept peacefully in his cradle. Gilon kept Raistlin on the bed, tucked in between him and Rosamun, hoping their body warmth would help the baby. Kit never heard the many times her stepfather rose in the night to care for his beloved wife and newborn twins.
The following day, Gilon was preparing a pot of porridge over the fire and Kit was holding Raistlin in one arm while attempting to give a bottle to Caramon in the cradle, when someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Minna entered with her sister, Yarly.
Yarly was a younger variation of Minna-every bit as short, stout, and starchy. Both of them were wearing their aprons, and Yarly's hair was swept under a headpiece. Obviously she had been instructed by her sister to say little or nothing. They both looked cross, but Yarly had a thick, protruding lower lip that even in the best of circumstances made her look sullen.
Minna pointedly ignored Kit and bestowed only a cool nod on Gilon as she crossed the floor to Rosamun's bedside, with Yarly in tow.
Rosamun had yet to regain full consciousness, though today she slept more comfortably and breathed more easily.
'How are we doing?' Minna asked while feeling and prodding Rosamun's stomach.
'Not so well,' Gilon responded with obvious concern. 'She still has a fever, and she hasn't even really opened her eyes. She's too weak to eat.'
'Mmmmm. The poor thing lost a lot of blood. She'll get better, I warrant, though it could be weeks before she's well enough to care for her new babies. Don't worry about the eating. Just be sure she drinks a lot of the
