The room was spartan in its appearance; there was a small table with an oil lamp placed upon it, a washing bole filled with bloody water and a jug beside it., in the corner was a simple crib and a new born lay in this, moving her little arms and legs while gazing out at the room with a gaze that saw all and nothing.

The room was mostly taken up by a small one person bed; a lady laid upon it whimpering softly, beside her hovered the midwife Lyra.

She was young and hardly experienced, plump in a warm way and sweet tempered and the lady clutched her hand.

“Are they coming?” she whispered, Lyra looked confused and stroked the ladies brow.

“Just lay still Miss, nobody is here but you, me and the little ‘en” She murmured softly, trying not to alarm the lady.

The birth had been complicated, and after Lyra had cleaned the babe and laid her in the crib she had gone to inspect the new mother and congratulate her upon having a healthy babe but found the lady bleeding profusely, beyond the young midwifes skill to heal.

The woman’s grip upon her hand lessened.

“What do you wish to name your daughter Mistress?” she asked, trying not to let her voice tremble as she gazed at the dying woman.

“Leila” the woman whispered, and then she tightened her grip and clawed at Lyra pulling herself up “don’t let them take her please!”

“Who Miss? Who?” Lyra cried.

“My father, he’ll come for her but he mustn’t take her, there is a man out in the back ally…give her to him” the woman’s voice was week and she meekly allowed Lyra to lay her back on the bed and cover her with the sheet.

“I will” Lyra promised.

The woman smiled faintly and then closed her eyes, slowly her chest stilled and she breathed no more.

Lyra lifted a hand to her cheek to wipe away the tears beginning to form in her eyes and stood up; she went to the crib and lifted up out the baby, rocking her gently.

“Leila” she whispered, more to herself than the child she carried “child who are you?”

But the new born and the still silent room held no answers for her.

Lyra laid her upon the small table; knocking aside the oil lamp in her hast to dress the babe and be rid of her, wrapping her tight in swaddling cloth.

Lyra picked her up again and opened the door that lead to the backstairs; she rushed down them and flung open the door to the alleyway.

Snow was falling from the dark night sky, and a cold north wind whipped around her, she clutched the child close and took a tentive step out on to the cobbled street.

Lamp light cast shadows around her, and Lyra moved forward a little more.

There was a cart in the road one like the farms used to big crops to market, a horse was tethered to it, snorting and shaking its self ever so often to displace the snow; Lyra guessed whoever was here must have come upon that cart.

“Hello?” she called, voice trembling and her breath crystallising before her.

Something stirred in the darkness and she screamed, a hand came out from the shadows and clamped over her mouth, cutting off her cry.

“Hold your tongue madam” a deep voice growled in her ear, Lyra whimpered and the baby began to squirm.

“Promise not to scream?” the voice asked, Lyra nodded and the hand was drawn away, a man stepped from the darkness.

He was covered almost completely by a hooded cloak, but his face she could see. He was dark skinned, his jaw was set with a fine white scar running across it and his eyes where steely grey.

“Who are you?” Lyra asked softly, the baby squirmed harder and Lyra turned her attention to her, cooing softly as she rocked her.

“My name I cannot tell you” the man said coldly “if he was ever to find me…”

Suddenly he spun, his hand upon the hilt of a hidden sword, peering out into the darkness, then he turned back to Lyra; a fear in his eyes.

“Give me the child”

“No!” Lyra hissed, she took a step back as the man moved threateningly towards her “you must take me with you, she won’t survive without me; I can make substitutes for mothers milk, I know how to ward cot death away from her”

The man gripped her shoulders and looked hard into her face, Lyra had the unnerving feeling he was trying to read her soul, and finally he relaxed his grip on her.

“Very well” he said slowly, he took her arm and helped her up on to the cart, he then seated himself in the driver’s seat and, grabbing the reigns spurred the horse into a trot.

As they trundled out into the street they passed a large black carriage, a man was leaning against it, smoking a pipe.

His eyes seemed to fallow them and Lyra shuddered, she turned her body so it hid the baby from his view and stared fixedly into the darkness.

She could not shake the feeling she had a very lucky escape.

~~~~~~*****~~~~~~

Darian inspected the newly dead body of his sister Maiea; he bent and kissed her cold lips.

“Sweetest sister” he stroked her matted hair, and then pulled the sheet over her peace filled face.

The twins father lord Maddox passed the room, he felt no great loss at the death of his daughter, but he was angry.

“Where is the child?” he turned to his son, and lashed out hitting the man across the face, he cowered away from his father tears falling down his face.

“Maiea is dead! Why is that baby all you can think of?” he screamed.

“I should never have let you play with her” Maddox hissed “you ruined her”

Darian lowered his head, hiccupping sobs issuing from his throat, Maddox’s demeanour softened and he gently stroked his son’s hair.

“Don’t you want to see your daughter?”

Darian lifted his head and nodded “yes father”

~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~

Lyra hummed softly to the child, they had stopped to rest in a secluded grove of trees as soon as the town had become a distant memory, across from her the man watched her, he stoked the fire silently.

“My name Is Adrin” he said finally braking the quiet, Lyra raised her head and smiled at him.

“Mine is Lyra, and the babes name is Leila”

They smiled at each other for a while longer till Adrin moved closer and put his hand upon Lyra’s, she looked at him rather puzzled for a while, and he brought his hand up to her lips and hushed her.

“You know Lyra…we shall have to be married if we are to bring up Leila here”

Lyra looked down at the hand holding hers and then back at Adrin, she wonder just what she had bargained her way into back in that alleyway, the man looked at her, waiting solemnly for her to speak and Lyra found her answer easy looking upon his face. .

“I doubt I would mind that” she said, with a grin.