old lab again.”
His mother blinked, then moved to study him from a slightly different angle. “And what about Eric? How is he doing?”
“I haven’t seen him,” said Will. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to fraternize, so I’ve kept my distance—”
“Was he injured?” she asked, cutting through his attempt at circumlocution.
“He’s fine.” The words left his mouth even as his brain registered horror at the lie. She’d asked him directly and he’d still lied. There would be hell to pay later.
Or sooner. Erisa’s hand caught him across the cheek hard enough to leave a red print there. He’d seen it coming, but apparently even his reflexes were smart enough to know to stay out of family matters. “Let’s forget you said that and start over,” she told him firmly. “Is he dead, or badly hurt?”
Since learning of Eric’s death, Will hadn’t been able to cry. He’d gotten a little sentimental with Selene, but his grief hadn’t reached the surface. It had remained stubbornly buried. The pain of his mother’s slap made his eyes water, and as he answered her question the emotions trapped within him began to spill over. “He’s dead, Mom. He’s dead and it’s my fault.”
Her arms went around him, and nothing more was said for some time. The embrace was awkward due to the breastplate and mail he wore, but Erisa didn’t complain. After the first wave had passed, she helped him remove the breastplate, then suggested, “Let’s go into the house.”
And so, they did. Will’s mother put the kettle on the stove while he removed his mail and gambeson, and then they talked. Erisa remained calm throughout, though as the conversation progressed, Will broke down several more times.
Without the armor, her hugs were considerably more comforting, and eventually Will felt a little better. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and his eyes felt red and swollen, but the pressure in his chest seemed to have lessened. His mother had teared up a few times, but hadn’t really cried the same way that he had. “I thought it would be worse for you than me,” he remarked to her.
Erisa dabbed at her eyes with a towel once more. “Did you cry when you found out?” she asked.
“No.”
“Sometimes it’s like that,” she responded, then she held up the towel. “Even these tears weren’t for Eric, they were for you.”
“But you loved him as much as I did,” argued Will.
“I can see your pain right now, and no mother can watch her child suffer without suffering as well.” She stared at the floor with a blank expression. “Eric doesn’t feel real to me, not yet. When it does—well, you don’t get to my age without losing people. It won’t be easy. I’ll probably break down when I have to tell Johnathan and Sammy.”
“You shouldn’t have to do that. It’s my responsibility.”
She held up her hand. “Family is family. They won’t be back for days, and I’m sure you won’t be here by then, will you?”
It was his turn to stare at the floorboards. He shook his head, then suggested, “You could wait…”
“In my experience, that is almost always a mistake, which is why I tried to slap some sense into you outside,” she responded. “Pain is pain, and it won’t get any better if I hide it from them. They’ll just be hurt more by my lack of trust and honesty. Remember that.”
He nodded. “I will, Mom.”
“Do you have time to eat? Will you be spending the night?”
“I’m hungry. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, though. That will depend on the trolls,” he answered.
“How about some honeyed oatcakes and milk?”
That had been one of his favorites since childhood. “You have milk?”
“Johnathan bought a cow. Things have been looking up around here,” she told him. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes. Thanks, Mom.”
Will watched his mother bustling about and quietly wondered when she had gotten so small. Erisa had a strong personality and unshakeable confidence, necessary traits for a midwife dealing with people during some of the most trying moments of their lives. Consequently, she had always seemed bigger than she really was when he’d been a child. Fully grown and having been through plenty of adversity himself, Will now saw his mother more as she truly was: kind, loving, small, and perhaps more fragile than he had ever realized.
There was also strength there. Erisa hadn’t raised him on her own in the face of her parents’ opposition without being strong-willed. The contrast of strength and vulnerability brought a fresh