“You’re most welcome, sweetheart.” Laudine mopped sweat from Rozenn’s sopping brow. “You did very well. But you did tear a bit during the birth, so l need to do a few stitches. Let’s give the babe to Ulla. She’ll clean him up while I tend to you.” Laudine carefully lifted the infant from his mother’s embrace and turned to face her former protégée.
Pain and panic flashed in Ulla’s widened eyes as Laudine placed Rozenn’s newborn son in her trembling arms. Illuminated from behind by the beeswax candle on the wooden table, a shimmering halo bathed the young priestess in soft, incandescent light.
An angel of the Goddess Dana.Laudine’s breath hitched at the sublime sight.
While she treated Rozenn, Laudine watched as Ulla lowered her lips to kiss the babe’s small head, tracing a delicate fingertip through his dark, abundant hair. The gifted healer gently swabbed mucous from the babe’s tiny mouth and nose. She applied an herbal ointment to the cut cord on his small stomach. Folding a clean cloth between his tiny legs, she tucked it snugly around his waist. Finally, Ulla swaddled the babe in a white wrap of softest linen, cradling him close to her broken heart.
When Laudine finished stitching Rozenn’s torn skin, Ulla placed the alert, wide-eyed babe into his mother’s loving arms. She smiled encouragingly as Rozenn put the infant to suckle at her breast.
After washing her hands in a basin of water, Laudine strode to the doorway and called for Quentin.
The tall, lanky Master of Horse dashed into the room, relief apparent on his haggard, bearded face.
“You have a fine, healthy son,” Laudine informed him cheerfully as he rushed to Rozenn’s side, bending down to kiss his wife’s beaming face and his son’s tiny head. “Rozenn will be just fine,” she assured him, as she and Ulla packed up their herbal supplies. “She needs plenty of rest, nourishing food, and lots of liquids to replace the blood she lost.”
Laudine slung her satchel over her shoulder and nodded to Argant, who disappeared out the front door to fetch Esclados and Gaultier. She smiled at Rozenn, her heart overflowing with joy. “Congratulations,petite maman.You’re a mother now.” She kissed Rozenn’s cheek to bid her goodbye. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you and the babe. Sleep well.Bonne nuit.”
Ulla kissed Rozenn and the baby farewell, a look of desperate longing in her dark emerald eyes.
An effusive, grateful Quentin hugged both midwives and led them to the front door.
When Argant returned with the escorts, Laudine and Ulla left the small, happy family in the cozy cabin and stepped out into the chilly October night.
Slivers of silver moonlight sliced through the dense trees.
“Mother and child are both fine,” Laudine informed Esclados as he bent to kiss her cheek. “The babe’s a strong, healthy boy.” She smiled at her female companion. “Ulla tended to the babe while I cared for Rozenn. I am so grateful for her tremendous help.”
Ulla seemed agitated and distraught, for she avoided Laudine’s direct gaze and kept her eyes fixed on the ground. Anxious to flee, the young healer darted off, away from the knights headed toward the castle, dashing across the bailey, back to her cottage in the woods.
Laudine exchanged a worried glance with her husband and son as the three of them watched Ulla sprint across the forested ground. “It was extremely difficult for her to hold Rozenn’s babe. It must have revived the painful loss of her own infant son.”
“Come, you must be exhausted. Let’s get you home to bed.” White teeth gleaming in the waxing moonlight, Esclados wrapped his arm around Laudine and handed his burning torch to their oldest son. “Gaultier will light the way.”
****
In the empty solar of the castle, Cardin drained his goblet of mead and stared into the fire. Fear, guilt, and grief gripped his heart, just as it had nearly seven years ago.
The night Lukaz was born.
As he gazed into the dancing flames, Cardin relived the torturous past.
Charlotte’s gut-wrenching screams. Relentlessly pacing in front of the blazing hearth, torn apart by her audible agony. Three excruciating days of labor, as she expended all of her strength to give birth. And finally—on the longest night of the year and the darkest day of Cardin’s life—his beloved wife brought forth the child she had so desperately desired.
And sacrificed her precious life for her son.
Cardin buried his face in shaking hands, raking long fingers through his thick, dark locks.
A commotion at the castle entrance interrupted his gruesome memories. When his parents and older brother entered the private parlor a few moments later, Cardin lurched to his feet and rushed across the room to grasp his mother’s hands.
Her amber eyes glowed in the golden firelight. “Rozenn and her newborn son are both fine.” Concern clouded her clear gaze. “But Ulla is not.” The gentle hand that had soothed so many of his childhood scrapes now stroked his bearded cheek. “She needs you, son. Go to her.”
Limbs twitching, pulse pounding, Cardin shook as adrenaline surged through his veins.
Tonight, like me, Ulla relived the painful past.
The infant son she lost…and the husband who died defending her.
She and I are alike in so many ways. Tragedy has broken us both.
