“’Tis over?” he asked, not truly wanting the answer. Tears burned his eyes as he waited.
“I fear the lass haes little time left now.”
“The babe was too early to live?”
“The babe haes no’ turned the right way to be born,” Ada answered. “She is bleeding and the babe is stuck.”
Firtha sobbed at Ada’s words, and if the truth be told, he felt like joining her. He wondered if Anice could hear them as she lay in her stupor. He fought the urge to gather her in his arms and hold her close.
“We have tried to turn the bairn, but my hands are no’ strong enough and Firtha canna hold her down.”
“Is there no one who could help ye in this? Other women who know how to deliver babes?”
“None,” Firtha whispered through her tears.
“Have ye pulled a newborn colt from the mare, Robert?” At his nod, Ada continued, “Mayhap ye could do this.”
Robert reeled back. Never did he expect to hear that. “Are ye daft, Ada? A horse and a woman are different things. And I am neither husband nor faither to her to touch her in that manner.”
“Aye, Robert, different, but in this, the same. If that bairn is not freed from her body, it will tear her apart and then die. It is tearing her even now. And we lose them both. Ye would let her die wi’out even trying?” She waited as he thought on her words.
Could he do this? He had only handled her in the briefest and most innocent of touches but this would be the most invasive touch of all—reaching into her and pulling the babe out. He knew of her aversion to be touched at all, especially by men in the clan. If she survived, how would she react to knowing he had been inside of her? If she survived? How could he be so stupid? If he did not try this, she would not live past this night. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded to Ada.
“Tell me what to do.”
Firtha and Ada moved quickly to get Anice prepared for this attempt. Another pain came upon her, but as weak as she was now, she only made a low groaning sound as it built within her and then passed. And they were ready. Moving her gently so that her feet were nearer to the end of the bed, Ada and Firtha peeled back the sheets and lifted her nightrail, pulling it up to her belly. With one on each side to hold her legs back and support her, he dared to look for the first time.
This was unlike any time before and he swore any time after. He leaned down and slid his hand between her thighs, anaction done many times to other women in the past but never again with such an intent. The path inside was looser and wetter than he knew it could be, but it made his reach in easier. How could a woman ever fit snugly around a man again after giving birth? And yet, he knew that they did, just as Anice would. He shook his head against such thoughts now.
“When ye touch her womb, ye will feel the babe’s shoulder in the canal. Ye have to push that back inside and guide it to turn.” Ada’s words were matter-of-fact so he concentrated on the task before him. Sliding his fingers around the soft joint, he tried to guide the babe back, but a contraction started and all of the pressure and blood came in his direction.
Anice shrieked again, this time long and loud, sending icy tremors down his spine. With his hand where it was, he could feel the sound vibrate through her even as it echoed through the chamber. He waited until he felt the pulsing within her womb stop and then tried once more to push the babe back inside. Placing his other hand on her belly he applied some pressure against another part of the babe, trying to turn it.
“The head would be best, Robert, but the feet—both feet, mind ye—would work as well,” Ada directed as he struggled within the tight confines to move the babe without hurting Anice even more.
A commotion outside in the bailey drew his attention away for a moment and then he felt the babe spin a bit to one side. His fingers encircled what he thought was the bairn’s head and he tried to guide it into the birth canal. His grasp slipped once more, then once again, until he finally had the slick babe in his hand. Anice’s moan was a signal to that which he already felt inside; another contraction was beginning.
“Dinna let go, lad, or we’ll lose him,” Ada called out as she and Firtha struggled to hold Anice. “Hold tight till it passes and then bring him out.”
Robert followed her instructions, holding as best he could onto the small head within Anice’s body. Loud voices now filled the hall outside her chamber but Robert tried to ignore them, waiting for the chance to reposition the babe. As soon as the cramping lessened, he tugged the head down and pressed on her belly to keep it in place.
The door crashing back into the wall wakened her with a jolt. Anice looked into his eyes and he saw that she recognized him. Too intent on his task to break from it, he did not turn to see who entered.
“This is no’ the time or place to deliver a message. I will see ye downstairs in the hall when this is done,” Robert called out to whomever was behind him and leaned over to block the intruder’s view of Anice on the bed.
“Robert!” Anice screamed as the babe’s head finally slid from her womb.
“He is dead, Robert!” the messenger yelled out.
Robert did not understand his meaning, since the babe was even now following his hand into the birth canal. He turned his head to look at the man in the doorway.
“Who is dead?”
“Sandy. We found him dead in the forest.”
There was a moment of utter and terrifying silence, followed by Anice’s scream. Whether caused by the news or her babe’s motion, he did not know. He watched as she arched her back, screamed again, and pushed with all her might, filling his hands with a rush of blood. Then the babe was there. And Anice collapsed back on the bed, unconscious.
Drawing the little body down and out, he watched as Ada came over and lifted the tiny babe, a boy, from his hands. He was purple and covered in blood and there was no movement at all. Had they been too late, then?
