The Riverwoman’s Dragon

One step and the distant buzz of the folk in the city and Galtres fell away, leaving only the sounds of the woodland and the inhabitants of the sanctuary. A raven’s caw was no louder than a child’s voice. Scent, too, changed, the mulch beneath Magda’s feet rich with season upon season of leaves and animal droppings. It was as if one of the homes of Sten’s kin had followed her to Galtres, surrounded by a patch of the ancient wood. In the past she had come here when the world bore down upon her, withdrawing into the peace of this place in which time slowed, seeking the happiness of her years with Sten. Memory, more of a trickster than a guide, hiding the darkness of the time after the birth of the twins, reveling in the long happy days when she hungrily learned what she could from Sten and basked in their mutual passion. But gradually the veil frayed and in rushed the pain. From all that she had learned with him and since, Magda summoned the will to sit with her grief, and, through it, find her own peace in the earth and all creation. By then it was too late to help her daughter Yrsa do the same. She was long gone, married and living far away. But perhaps Magda might now help her daughter’s grandson to find his way. If that was his wish. Tonight might provide the chance to see his true intent.

At the beck within the sanctuary clearing Helen’s boys were doing chores – gathering kindling, carrying buckets of water, scrubbing bowls, all with a wide-eyed quiet that bespoke a frightening event. To ask might be to stir up tears. Fergus sat astride a stool near the doorway, his crushed leg thrust out at its strange angle, showing his daughter how to grind the grain for flour. He glanced up with a furrowed brow that smoothed only a little as he struggled to rise, telling Tess to go help her brothers at the beck.

‘I prayed you would come soon, and here you are.’ Tears stood in his eyes.

‘Be at ease,’ said Magda. ‘Thy wife’s time has come?’

‘I woke to find her pacing the room. Then her pains began. From the start they were worse than ever before, and they have not stopped since before dawn. She says they are still too far apart for it to be time. Dame Lettice is helping, but she needs you, Dame Magda. I have sat here listening to them and she is frightening Helen. She fears that her husband’s murderers are coming for her and we are all in danger. Helen tells her you would never place us in the path of such trouble, but she will not hear it. I fear she has already frightened them. I was about to send one of the boys for you.’

‘Magda saw their faces. Give the woodland time to draw them into the wonders. Once they see, they will understand they are safe. Thou art safe. All will be well for thee. Now Magda will see to the women.’ She stepped inside, pausing a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness. In the sleep chamber Lettice bathed Helen’s face in cool water while the expectant mother stood panting.

‘Dame Magda!’ Helen cried, breaking away from the other woman.

‘God be thanked,’ breathed Lettice. ‘I have done all I know to do. She must–’

Magda suggested that Lettice go out for some fresh air and a walk about the clearing while she examined Helen.

‘Bless you,’ Helen said as she eased down onto the bed with Magda’s assistance. ‘She fears–’

‘Thy husband heard. Be assured, this sanctuary will not be breached. It is Lettice who needs the protections about this place, not thy family. But she will be of help to thee when calmed. And thou wilt help her through her first weeks of grieving.’ She massaged Helen’s head as she spoke, listening to the woman’s breathing, waiting for it to slow even more.

When the rhythm pleased her, Magda checked first for breech, but the head was in the right place. Laying her hands upon the distended stomach she awaited the next contraction, feeling where the twin lay as well. ‘Ah, there is the second of the pair.’

‘I cannot feel two heartbeats,’ said Helen.

It was ever difficult to distinguish two, for many reasons. Listening closely, she caught the second, moved her ear along Helen’s distended stomach until the second heartbeat was the stronger one. ‘Two strong hearts.’ She guided Helen’s hands. ‘One here. The other here.’

‘God is good!’