Marcus sat in the sunshine by the garrison well, Aurelia on his lap. She was gurgling and babbling happily, nonsense sounds full of m’s and b’s. Marcus smiled at her.
“Come on, Aurelia, can you say ‘papa’? Try saying ‘papa,’” he suggested.
Aurelia just looked up at him, a serious expression in her blue eyes, and then laughed. Marcus sighed. What was the point of taking in a baby if she couldn’t even learn to call you by the right term? She’d probably learn Mulberry’s name first, he thought, and only then would she learn his. And it would be his name she learned, knowing his luck, rather than the word he’d rather she use.
“Cute little thing you got there,” A voice said, interrupting Marcus’ reverie, “Is your wife Estavaca?”
“I’m sorry?” Marcus asked in confusion.
He squinted into the sun, trying to make out the silhouetted figure before him. When Marcus shaded his eyes, the figure resolved into an old man carrying a tray slung around his neck. The tray was filled with sweets, of some sort, and the old man looked jaunty in his bright coat and soft felt hat.
“Your wife, she Estavaca?” he repeated, “The kid looks it – shape of face, the hair, though gods know there’re enough dark-haired imperials.”
“Oh. I’m not married,” Marcus said, still sounding confused.
“But the kid –"
“She’s mine,” Marcus said protectively, too tired after days of riding to want to explain.
The man raised an eyebrow.
“Ah. I see,” he said.
“But yeah,” Marcus nodded, “She’s . . . well . . .”
“Part Estavaca. Like I said, I can see it in the kid,” The old man nodded in agreement.
“I guess it really is pretty obvious,” Marcus sighed, looking down at Aurelia who patted his cheek.
“Oh, cheer up, it isn’t like anyone would think she was anything but yours, with deep blue eyes like that,” The old man smiled.
That statement made Marcus’ heart flutter a little. It was nice to think that Aurelia looked like him, even though she was only his because a piece of paper said so.
“You really think so?” Marcus said, hopefully.
“Sure. Those’re your eyes, sure enough. And besides, there’s no shame in taking an Estavaca woman for yourself, eh? They say the highest in the land did the same.”
“Oh. You mean the Emperor,” Marcus said, sighing.
“Well, sure!” The old man said, sitting down beside Marcus, “Everyone’s heard about the Emperor taking an Estavaca princess as his mistress. And mark my words, the story’s true.”
The old man placed one of the sweets from his tray in Aurelia’s chubby hand. Marcus noted that they were shaped like tiny rabbits, simple brown honey-candy, but in a clever shape. The baby chortled with delight. Marcus reckoned the candy would keep the baby quiet, and that would be nice for a time, especially as Mulberry wasn’t back with food yet. Well, so long as she didn't choke on it. He soon stopped worrying about that, however, as Aurelia seemed to think the small rabbit was a toy, not a food. She rubbed it up and down Marcus’ arm, laughing.
Intending to politely continue the conversation with the old man, Marcus commented, “That so?”
“Well, of course,” The old man said as if it were obvious, “Everyone says it’s true. Some even say she bore him a child. I doubt that, though. Oh, but one story about her I do believe – woman disappeared.”
“How could the Emperor’s mistress,” or wife, Marcus had heard there had been a secret wedding, “Manage to disappear?”
The man shrugged, pushing his hat back on his head, “Way I heard it, she was maybe an Estavacan spy. Or maybe just wanted to go home. Either way, I heard she disappeared on her own. Ungrateful foreigner.”
“Surely it isn’t so bad to want to go home?” Marcus asked cautiously.
Aurelia dropped her bunny candy on the ground, then fished it out of the dirt and set it jumping on Marcus again.
The man snorted, “It is bad if you’re disobeying his imperial majesty. Like I said, that woman was ungrateful. She ought to have been happy to be the favourite of the Emperor. Anyhow, that’s how I know she never had his child.”
“Oh?” asked Marcus, not following.
“Emperor would let a woman go, sure, but his own kid? Possible heir to the throne if something happens to the Prince? Not likely!”
“No, that’s true,” Marcus said, though he reflected that no father would willingly give up his child, possible heir or no. Aurelia wasn’t even really his, and he wouldn’t give her up.
“So you see? It isn’t likely,” The man said.
He then scooped up a big handful of the sweets. Marcus looked alarmed.
“Hey, I can’t afford to pay for those!” He warned.
“Compliments of the house,” the man said, tossing the handful on Marcus’ lap, “Share them with your travelling companions. You’re likely to be around a few days, and the baby will like ‘em once she figures out they’re edible. . . I know you’ll search me out for more.”
“Maybe,” Marcus agreed, grinning, as Aurelia’s bunny fell in the dirt once more.
YOU ARE READING
The Baby and the Battlefield
FantasyA baby? On a battlefield? Marcus is a clerk in the Imperial army. When he finds an abandoned baby on a battlefield, he has no idea what to do with her. His best friend is no help; he thinks Marcus is a sucker for taking the kid in. The slave who end...
