‘I’m glad you are here, Aileen,’ Bridget breathed. ‘Even if Seamus has forbidden you to be our healer, I’ve always trusted you.’
The words eased Aileen’s mind, and she warmed to them. Moments later, Cillian arrived with the cart and horse. Lorcan had not yet returned with Frasier, but Aileen trusted the boy to fetch him.
The cart rumbled across the meadow, Bridget clutching at the curve of her stomach. As the torches faded into the distance, Aileen found herself thinking of Connor. He had gone to their hut, promising to wait for her. Though she recognised his intent, she didn’t know how she felt about it.
Not that any of it mattered. She had to remain with Bridget until the birth, and Connor would give up waiting for her. It would be dawn before she returned home.
The cart stopped before the stone hut, and Cillian helped carry Bridget to the straw pallet. Zaira had a pot of water hanging above a warm fire.
‘Should I stay until Illona arrives?’ her brother asked.
‘No. But thank you for your help this night.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘And for letting me do this.’
Her brother departed, and Aileen worked with Zaira to ease Bridget’s labour. Frasier arrived at last, but though he had attended the other births, his pallor was far more ashen than Bridget’s.
‘I don’t want you here,’ he said brusquely. ‘We must wait for Illona.’
‘She is not here yet,’ Aileen reasoned. ‘And I don’t think Bridget intends to wait. Would you rather she give birth alone?’
Frasier tensed, but shook his head. ‘Seamus says you are cursed by thesibh dubh, Aileen Ó Duinne. I’ll not let you near Bridget. Not after what happened to his sons.’
Aileen longed to shake sense into the man. ‘I delivered each of your three children, Frasier Ó Duinne. No harm came to any of them.’
‘That was before the curse.’
‘There is no curse,’ she insisted. Her own frustration tightened within her. A child would soon be born. Selfishly, she wanted to be the healer to bring it forth.
Another cry burst forth from Bridget, and desperation lined Frasier’s face. He would do anything to take away her pain.
‘Do you want me to leave?’ Aileen asked softly. She prayed he would not accept the offer.
Frasier’s shoulders slumped forward. ‘There isn’t time, is there?’
She shook her head. ‘The babe will not be long now.’
He blanched, contemplating the consequences if she left. Aileen took his hand. ‘I swear to you, I will take care of her. She is strong and healthy. All will be well. And Illona will come.’
‘Bridget will not like it if you leave.’ With reluctance, he let her stay, pacing back and forth. Aileen was grateful that their other children were sleeping in the tents at theaenach, away from their mother’s distressed cries.
Over the next hour, she sent Frasier outside the hut for numerous unnecessary tasks. The activity kept him from hovering over Bridget. At last, Illona arrived. The woman did not countermand Aileen’s orders, but instead worked alongside her.
Time blurred into a haze until at last Aileen called for Frasier to help Bridget into a squatting position. He supported his wife’s body while she pushed. Infinity compressed into a single moment as Bridget strained. Sweat beaded upon her forehead. She closed her eyes to focus on the task while Aileen invoked a rhythmic healing chant. The soft words flowed, familiar words Kyna had spoken and passed down to Aileen whenever a new life was about to come forth.
Illona’s voice merged with hers, and the two women joined together to guide the birth. The small head stretched against Bridget’s womb, sliding into Aileen’s hands. She eased the shoulders forth and cleared the young mouth. The only sounds in the hut were chanting, Bridget’s harsh breathing, and the sudden cry of a newborn.
Aileen lifted the child on to Bridget’s stomach. Tears slid down her cheeks as she relived her own daughter’s birth. ‘She is a beautiful girl, Bridget.’ It never failed to enchant her, seeing a child emerge into the world.
‘She is,’ Bridget agreed, stroking the infant’s head. Illona tied off the babe’s cord and severed it.
‘You did well, Aileen. I could not have done better myself,’ Illona complimented her.
Aileen accepted the words of praise, but they were a reminder that she had been replaced by someone else. She tried to concentrate upon the important matters, but already Illona had taken her place, guiding Bridget with the delivery of the afterbirth. Thanks be, there was no tearing, no need for a healing poultice.
She found a cleanléinefor Bridget while Illona wrapped the afterbirth in cloth for a later burial. When Bridget was settled into bed with her newborn, Aileen said her goodbyes to the family.
Outside, she washed her hands in the animal trough. The summer’s night air had grown chilly, and Aileen shivered, rubbing her arms. Whispers of starlight glittered in an ebony sky while the rasping of crickets invaded the stillness.
Aileen lifted herbratover her head and wrapped the warm folds of the woollen mantle across her shoulders. The exhilaration of welcoming the infant into the world made her smile. She walked the distance to her hut, thankful for the blessing of an easy birth.
