Swiss Arms 112 (Patreon)

Swiss Arms

Chapter 112

-VB-

Hans von Fluelaberg

I sat outside the room, and my legs would not stop bouncing in anxiety. 

It was … It was probably the worst I’ve felt in my entire life. It was the weakest I’ve felt in my life. 

I’ve done everything I can. Doing more would only get in the way of the midwife and the maidservants. 

The midwife and some other maidservants were in the room with Isabella, and they came in and out at all hours to deliver fresh water and towels. 

And all throughout it, I heard her screaming inside. 

“Milord.”

I looked up and saw one of the guards. “Ah, Gerald. What is it?” I asked him.

“There… an issue has come up,” he grimaced. 

I nearly slapped this bastard. My wife was giving birth. Couldn’t he hear that?!

Instead, I took a deep breath in, stood up, and glared down at him.

“It better be a good issue,” I told him slowly and lowly. “For you to try to drag me away from the baroness at this critical hour.”

The man looked like he was going to collapse instantly, but he held himself up somehow. 

“M-Milord, it is Count J-John.”

John? John was here? 

I backed off and took another deep breath in and let it out slowly. 

“Tell him to wait for me and of Isabella’s condition. He will understand. Make sure the servants know that John is to be made comfortable.”

“Yes, milord,” Gerald saluted and then scurried away as quickly as he could. 

After a moment of standing there almost like a statue, I allowed myself to sink back down onto my chair.

The brief distraction ended and I found the panic and anxiety coming right back, punctuated by Isabella’s screams. 

-VB-

Count John of Toggenburg

“Oh, Gerald,” John called the man as he saw him approaching hastily. “It’s been some time we’ve met,” he told the guard. 

The guard nodded and then saluted. 

Before, he had been a ward of the baron but now, he was a count in his own right with accomplishments and position that demanded respect. Gerald used to mush up his hair after training that Hans subjected everyone to. Was it weird that John kind of missed it? 

“Count Toggenburg,” Gerald greeted him. “I apologize, but Baron Fluelaberg is occupied at the moment.”

John frowned. “Is it something serious?” he asked. 

“Yes. The baroness is giving birth.”

John froze.

And then his jaws dropped. 

“W-wait, Isabella is giving birth?!” he nearly shrieked. “Is she -?”

“It is progressing … smoothly, according to the assistants to the midwife.”

His suddenly tense shoulders loosened up. 

He remembered what it was like for his mother to give birth. That had been a harrowing night for him, hearing her scream like that for the entire night. Now, it was Hans going through that. 

It being winter still… there was a higher chance that she might die than had she been giving birth during summer or fall. 

“Where are they right now?” he asked. Gerald looked at him in surprise. “Is Hans alone by himself?”

“He is,” he replied. “But only after he made sure to deliver … ‘sterile’ equipment to the midwife.”

“Sterile? What is that supposed to mean?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“The baron said that his equipment may help the baroness survive the ordeal. Or at the very least not become sick.”

John’s eyes widened. 

“What were they?” he asked quickly. “No, wait, where is Hans? I’m going to go and wait with him.”

Gerald looked conflicted for a second before nodding. “He is just outside his bedchamber. I will make sure that all of your retinue and belongings are taken care of.”

“Good man,” he muttered before hurrying past him. Then he paused, took off his cape, and handed it to Gerald. 

Once free of his cumbersome and warm cape, which Hans had gifted him some time ago, he ran into the fort and up the stairs. After what felt like forever, he found himself in the wood-floored second-story corridor. When he was around, it used to have wooden walls, too, but Hans had been busy apparently because the walls were uniform bricks now. 

And he found Hans sitting on a chair by his lonesome some six feet from his bedchamber’s door. 

“Hans,” he spoke up as he approached the man. 

Hans froze and looked up.

John found himself struck by how different Hans looked. 

The somewhat playful, easygoing, and ridiculous man he’d come to know was missing. No, he found himself staring at something just a few steps above a feral animal. 

John faltered as he found himself feeling like he was drowning. Everything felt heavier. He was so weak. 

What? 

Huh? 

He - ?

And then it was all gone, and he found himself leaning into Hans’s arms. 

“W-What…?” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Hans muttered as he helped him up. “I was surprised. You didn’t deserve that.”

Surprised? Deserve what? 

Was … Was that feeling something Hans … magicked? 

He gulped but stood up on his own two feet. Two trembling legs and feet but on his own nonetheless. 

And then another scream rang out.

“Hans, is she …?”

“Midwife said it’s going well,” he replied as -.

Huh. Where did that second chair come from?

“How long has it been?” he asked as he tried to not wince at another scream. God, had Hans been sitting out here just listening to her screaming all night long?

“Only six hours.”

John shivered. 

“... Okay,” he said and then sat down on the second chair. “I’ll wait with you.”

“... Thanks.”

---

They didn’t hear the sound of a baby… 

Until sunrise the next morning.