It would take almost two years to finish the manor. It was large and to be made of stone, with a garden, stable, and large cellar for storing food and other goods. But it only took three months for enough to be built that Dyla and Bryn moved in. They stayed for the rest of winter and then, to the relief of Jarl Soren and much of the town, they left in the spring, promising to return in fall.

Dyla had not expected Bryn to stay put. As happy as he had been with the progress of his land, the wilds indeed called him back. He didn’t raze anymore villages, but returned to saving people only to take everything they had. Bryn and Dyla went southeast, towards sections of Valhym they had not yet ventured. They followed rivers, climbed mountains, and visited other Jarl forts.

Occasionally they came too late to rescue and rob, and more than a few new orphans or widows were employed by Bryn and sent back to his manor. Of the the new employees, there was only one unwilling servant: their cook. A baker in Graftin made the mistake of bragging to Bryn what a great chef his wife was. Bryn immediately offered to hire the both of them. The baker had refused, unwilling to leave Graftin and his ailing parents. The next night, the bakery burned down while the baker, his wife, and their baby were visiting the ailing parents.

After another 'request' the baker, pale-faced, agreed to move, but stood his ground and gave the condition that his parents would have a place to stay. Bryn had agreed, but confided in Dyla that he doubted the pair would make the trip.

The days grew short and one morning, Bryn announced they would return home. They were only a few weeks out when Dyla collapsed.

It had been a rough patch of land, with rocks and rivers, and they had climbed over a ridge to avoid some giants. Dyla had made the climb but having safely reached the bottom, her legs gave way. Her stomach heaved out her breakfast and as she finished, Bryn rolled her on her side, brushing her hair out of her face.

"What's wrong?"

Dyla gripped Bryn's arm, her strength returning. "I-I'm not sure, my lord. I just felt so dizzy."

"Are you ill?"

Her pale eyebrows furrowed and she reached for her waterskin. Cleaning her face and drinking a small bit. "I think I need to see a medicine woman."

Dyla never made requests to Bryn, but her pale, concerned face told him it was important. And if it was important to Dyla, it had to do with Bryn. He helped her up and kept a close eye on her as they continued to travel. Occasionally she lost her breath or was sick, she would apologize as Bryn stopped and helped her. He stayed quiet.

Finally they reached a tiny, remote village. As they came, men began to gather, worried about the bear of a man and the threat he brought. But for once, Bryn did not concern himself with them. He found the home of the old woman every small village seemed to have. A woman who knew herbs and remedies, who healed—usually without magic, and who all the village women turned to in times of need.

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The hut, for it was more a hut than a home, smelled strongly of dried herbs and Bryn did not fit in the door. He called, "My woman needs to see you."

A small wrinkled woman, with bits of dried flowers stuck in her wispy hair emerged. She toddled up to Bryn, unaffected by his intimidating size. She took one glance at Dyla, and then gestured her inside. Dyla went in, leaving Bryn to stand like a statue while the eyes of every villager bored into his back.

When Dyla emerged, her face was stony and she was holding two small brown bags. The old woman followed and stuck out one crinkled hand. Bryn dropped several gold coins into it and then left the village.

Bryn was surprised by his own patience with Dyla. She said nothing as she made dinner. She said nothing as they ate. It was only after they had washed up that she spoke, the two bags clutched in her hands.

When she finally spoke, he listened without a word, "My lord, I am pregnant. I do not know if you wish this or not. I asked the woman for two things." She held up the bags,."One is herbs to help the baby grow strong and healthy, the other is to kill it."

She placed the two bags in his large hands and sat in front of him. "I promised I would stay by your side, I cannot make these wilderness journeys carrying a child. Tell me your wish."

Bryn looked at what he was holding and then at Dyla. With steady surety, he tipped the bag of poison onto the dirt. "I will accept my child." He handed the other bag back to Dyla who took it and held it close.

When they arrived back at Hjor, the manor had doubled in size. Servants they had hired bustled about and as the couple approached they were met by Ulris.

Ulris was Bryn's steward, an old man whose caravan and family had been slaughtered by bandits. Bryn had saved Ulris from the brink of death and in return for room, board, and a small paycheck, he had agreed to serve the man who'd saved his life. He bowed solemnly, welcoming Bryn back. "As you can see, my lord, the estate is on schedule. The first floor should be completed by the time winter starts."

"Good. But I need to speak with the architect, there are a few changes in order."

Ulris nodded and wrote it down in a little book he always had with him.

"Also, I want to speak to the Jarl." Ulris jotted this down and Bryn looked around the bustling site. "Where is Nelly?"

His loud voice carried and a young woman, not eighteen years old, rushed over, curtseying. "I'm here, sir."

"Take my woman to her room."

"Yes, sir. My lady?"

Dyla did not like being sent away, but she left with the girl who took her to the couple's bedroom, now fully fitted with tapestries and a four poster bed to keep out the cold. Dyla sat down and sighed. Nelly stood there awkwardly and asked, "Is everything alright my lady?"

She smiled at Nelly. They had found her chained up with a few other girls and two men with a group of slavers. Bryn had liked the slaver's large wallets, Dyla had liked Nelly. "I'm tired and don't like being away from Bryn."

Nelly bobbed her head and looked so concerned for Dyla that added, "And I am pregnant."

The girl covered her mouth as a small gasp escaped. "Congratulations, my lady. Do you need anything? Food? A doctor?"

"No, no. Just let me lie down." Nelly nodded and folded down the blankets for her. "And Nelly, don't tell anyone."

Shaking her head, Nelly mimed locking her mouth. "Call for me if you need anything, my lady." She curtsied and left.

Dyla laid down. It was going to be strange switching from hard camping to servants waiting on hand and foot. But it was what Bryn wanted, so she was happy. She placed a hand on her stomach and fell asleep.