“It might be a son,” Ulf soothed, relenting for the first time. Evidently, he thought the moment ill-chosen to contradict her. She loved him for it. “But, in truth, I care not. Either would be wonderful.”
“Yes, I don’t care either. I just hope Oslac is wrong.”
Because of the size of her stomach, her brother was adamant she was carrying twins, even though Cwenthryth and Helga had both assured her that was not the case. She wanted to believe them, who knew what they were talking about, rather than him. The prospect of giving birth to one baby was frightening enough. Two was unthinkable.
“I think I need to lie down now.”
“Of course. Let me go get the saddle bags,” Ulf answered. “Will you be all right alone just a moment?”
Ylva nodded. The men had packed everything needed to see to her comfort that morning, a blanket, food and drink, andnever had she had more cause to congratulate herself more on this foresight.
Ulf set off at a trot and was back in a trice.
She lay on the blanket he’d spread on the mossy ground and looked up at him. The contractions, as Cwenthryth had called them, seemed to be increasing in intensity and coming more rapidly. This could mean only one thing. She was glad to have talked about this with her mother-in-law a few weeks ago, because now she knew more or less what to expect. Nothing in her previous life had prepared her for this.
“You’re… You might to have to help me if Oslac doesn’t come back in time,” she whimpered, terrified at the prospect of doing this alone. How long would it take for the babe to actually come out? Cwenthryth had told her it varied a lot from woman to woman. “I know it’s not something you?—”
“I will do whatever needs doing,” Ulf cut in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You just concentrate on what you need to do. You can do this, my love, I know you can. You have faced much worse in your life.”
She was glad for the certainty in his voice because at the moment she needed all the reassurance she could get.
“Tell me what you see on that stone arch, please,” she panted.
“What stone arch?” Ulf sounded bewildered, and unsure why she would ask such a thing now.
“There. Just above us.”
He tilted his head up and suddenly the tension seemed to leave his face. His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at her.
“I see a mother holding her baby, like you will soon. It can only be a sign.” He removed a strand of hair from her forehead and took her hand in his. “Breathe, my love. Everything will be fine.”
By the timeOslac came back, driving the blacksmith’s cart with Cwenthryth by his side, it was all over. And everything was indeed fine. More than fine. Ylva was holding a healthy, beautiful baby boy in her arms. Their son, Einar.
By the gods. They had a son. Ulf could barely comprehend it. They had a son. Ylva had been right. He smiled, suddenly convinced that her dream would come true and they would go on to have three more children. It would suit him perfectly. He just hoped at least one of them would be a girl.
“I think he’ll want to suckle soon,” he said, remembering what his mother had said about what happened at births. But for now, the babe was content, nestled in his mother’s arms, looking at her through intense blue eyes.
“Don’t you think he’s perfect?” Ylva asked, sounding awed.
“I do. As are you.”
He settled her against his flank and placed a kiss on the top of her head. To think he had been the first person to ever touch his son was the oddest feeling.
“Please tell me you will give him the same happy childhood you had.” Ylva started crying, rubbing her nose on the crown of the baby’s head gently. “Nothing like mine. Tell me you will give him?—”
“Iwill nothing. We will. Together. We will take him swimming underwater and teach him to ride, we will build a tree house for him and his siblings, we will eat with him by the river, we will sleep in the woods, roast rabbits over a huge fire, explore caves and we will even show him how to make flower garlands, though, in truth, I think that had better come from you than me.”
To his relief, Ylva laughed. “Yes, we will.”
The sound of hooves interrupted the kiss they shared while imagining this new life awaiting them.
“Ulf! Ylva!”
“Mother.”
Ulf received her into his arms as she jumped from the driver’s seat, looking frantic. “How did it?—”
“Everyone is well,” he assured her. “Come, meet little Einar.”
