Caspian's face was like a stormcloud as he left his parents' home. His brother had been enchanted by a Rhone girl. The former assistant to an otherworldly creature.
He recalled how the woman, Brenna, had healed Naomi. His wife had been polite, even friendly to the woman that his mother said all the other Rhone girls hated.
Naomi had come alone, without any other girls. Did they hate her too? Was she also a suspected traitor?
She had said she was going to answer questions with Mayra, but had she really? Was she avoiding the new girls on purpose?
He considered how thoroughly smitten Edmar was, and then reluctantly looked at himself. The Rhone prince had talked about heavily resisting the charm when it was tried on him. Goodness knew Caspian had resisted Naomi from before she even arrived.
Yet he found himself in her clutches anyway.
His stomach roiled at the thought that she was using an enchantment on him, but Edmar also refused to believe it about Brenna, despite the evidence otherwise.
Caspian had the urge to run home and confront his wife, rivaled by an equally strong compulsion to flee and avoid her. If she had truly used magic to enthrall him, there was no guarantee he could figure it out.
If she'd been lying to him so convincingly this whole time, why should he be able to see through it now?
His scowl deepened. Was he an absolute fool? He felt sick. Maybe that was a side effect to attempting to resist the magic?
His mind raced through increasingly horrible possibilities. Maybe Naomi was a creature from another world, as he'd originally, outrageously guessed. Maybe Brenna served her, and that was why she came to visit.
No, surely an otherworldly creature could heal itself… but then, that would be suspicious, wouldn't it? Brenna's visit would have been a cover.
The more likely scenario was that they served the Darkness together, wasn't it?
He paused in his steps. Would confronting Naomi do any good at all? It was unlikely she would break down and tell him the truth, that she was evil and had enchanted him into her web of lies.
If she were innocent or guilty, her story would be basically the same, wouldn't it? If she were innocent, she would tell the truth, which would make perfect sense. If she were a guilty, masterful liar, she would make up a tale that sounded plausible.
And he, being under the influence of an enchantment, would believe the liar.
It was an impossible situation. What he needed was someone trustworthy to investigate the possibility for him. His parents were too close to the situation to be impartial. Perhaps the newly arrived prince would help him, since he knew the most about the trick.
Nodding to himself, he resolved to ask Prince Roland about the matter tomorrow. The man would be busy the rest of the day and evening, he guessed, dealing with Edmar's situation.
He'd been walking a while in thought, but now turned toward home. It was nearly time to eat.
Entering his hut, he was mildly surprised to find it empty. With Mayra summoned to deal with the Brenna matter, he had assumed his wife would come home, especially as mealtime was approaching.
Was that suspicious? He ran through several scenarios, none of them helpful to his peace of mind. He should find something to occupy his time to keep his thoughts from racing.
The lowing of one of his cows caught his attention. The heifer was due to birth soon, and the sounds of unrest merited examination.
Coming around to the barn, he saw the heifer in the pasture, her distress apparent. He broke into a run, seeing that Naomi was struggling at the end of the animal.
His wife had her arms into the birth canal of the animal up past her elbows, sweating and straining. She looked to be attempting to turn a belly-up calve whose forehooves were showing.
Naomi spotted him, and cried out.
"Help! She can't get him out!"
Caspian stripped off his shirt and threw it onto the fence, knowing things were about to get very messy.
"Carefully, now, he needs to be turned belly down," He spoke quickly. Such a maneuver required strength and leverage, and he wasn't sure if Naomi possessed enough of either.
She gritted her teeth and strained, and he evaluated whether to push her out of the way and do it himself. She was making slow progress, but the mother's endurance wouldn't hold out forever.
A guttural groan escaped Naomi's lips as she continued to work. Caspian patted the mother and spoke soothingly to her.
"That a girl, keep going, we'll get your calf pulled."
Naomi was clearly nearing the end of her strength, but a sudden relief in her expression signaled her satisfaction that the calf had been turned the correct way.
A nose followed the hooves out as Naomi withdrew, and Caspian moved her aside to pull the calf in tandem with the heifer's exhausted pushing. Soon, a fresh newborn calf slid to the ground, looking stunned but alive.
The cow turned to begin nudging and caring for her baby, and the humans backed away to the fence to observe.
"Thank you," Naomi panted. She moved to wipe the sweat from her brow, but realized how disgusting she was and grimaced. "I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing, but she was so distraught there didn't seem time to find you. I didn't know for sure where you were."
Caspian gaped at her.
"What happened?" He had a pretty fair idea, but wanted her version of events anyway.
"Mayra got called away, so I came back home. I started on some cleaning, but heard her, upset. I came out and she was laying there, groaning in pain and things didn't seem to be going well. The calf started coming, but it was upside down.
"At least, that's what I assumed from my time with my goats. And she was so obviously bothered that I just tried a similar thing. I washed up with soap and pushed the baby back in until I could get it turned. Of course, cows are much bigger and it was much more difficult… and messy." She looked down at her slime-covered self in disgust.
He imagined her assisting in a goat birth that would not require her getting nearly shoulder-deep into an animal and burst out laughing. His suspicions about her were temporarily thrust from his mind for a few moments while she looked at him with an expression between exasperation and resignation.
Still laughing, he stood to go get water from a barrel, and they both washed as well as they could outside.
Her dress was likely salvageable, but after washing a bit, she sat looking dejected at the apron in her hands. It was ruined.
Softening in spite of himself, he offered her a hand to help her sit up. She lifted her arm to take it, and flinched.
"I've done that before. Your arms will be sore for days, or more," He said, and she sighed.
"I suppose it serves me right. I should have waited," She looked a bit ashamed.
"You think so? We might have lost both calf and mother without acting quickly. We'll have to keep watch on them still, but without you they may not have lived this long." He pushed his negative thoughts about her to the back of his mind. If she was innocent, she deserved the highest praise for her quick actions.
If she was evil, he could find that out tomorrow.
Leading her inside, he took the tattered, stained apron from her hands and gave her the new one, which he'd lain on the table.
Unfolding it, she held it up to the light, admiring the stitching and little embroidered flowers, the bright colors of the threads, and the clean, smooth, new appearance of the fabric. She laid it carefully flat on the table, as if afraid to wrinkle it.
"It's beautiful," She said, her eyes filling with tears. "It's not for me, is it?"
"Who else would it be for?" Caspian asked incredulously.
"Perhaps your mother?" She replied. "It's far too fine a thing for me to wear for housework."
"Are you rejecting my gift?" He was confused by this behavior.
"No! I love it," She turned and studied his face. "It's just too wonderful to be tarnished by me doing chores in it."
She looked down again, extending her fingers to gently brush them across the fabric, caressing the gift.
"It's yours. If you get it dirty, I'll get you another," He assured.
Suddenly Naomi's arms were around his waist in a tight hug. His arms went around her in response, allowing himself a moment of weakness to enjoy the embrace.
"Thank you," She whispered, choking on the words, "it's the nicest gift I've ever been given."
His heart ached and he held her a little closer. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out the truth.