Knight's Legacy (9 page)

“How far away is she?”

“An hour's ride to my land, to the north, then east,” he said.

“Has she a midwife to help her?”

“Aye. ‘Twas the midwife that has given me little hope my wife will live, never mind the child.”

Cat sheathed her sword and pulled her cloak about her. It distressed her to think of the midwife's methods. “I'll take you to him,” she said.

They turned to ride back to the keep, and Cat reached out to try to calm Kenneth. The boy eyed the soldiers with fear, but did not try to run away.

Cat's heart twisted for the young woman struggling to give birth under such conditions. She knew a lot about mares foaling, but had never witnessed a baby born, except in films. So many women chose to give birth at home in her own time. Natural childbirth was a popular choice, and two of her friends had taken Lamaze classes. What if it was a simple complication? What if she could help? Cat came to the conclusion that her knowledge, though hardly that of a medical expert, could be of help to others.

Her search for the portal could very well be a futile effort. This time was her reality, and she was much more adept at dealing with the practical aspects of her life here than longing for her past. Cat was never one to sit and whine for something she could not change. Merlin appeared to her twice. Maybe she would have to wait for him to appear again.

Afraid of being vulnerable with Roderic, she was running away from him, but he was, after all, her husband. Roderic might be a man of honor and integrity, but he was in a position of power over Cat, and she was not ready to accept that. A man could treat his wife any way he chose in this time. Cat remembered reading that the expression ‘rule of thumb' came from a law in early England that forbid a man to beat his wife with any stick wider than his thumb; a stick smaller than that was, of course, perfectly acceptable.

Cat Terril would never tolerate such behavior, from Roderic, or any man. Lady Brianna, however, would be forced to suffer her husband's wrath. Cat knew it would be impossible to root out traits in her personality that would be unlike Brianna. Knowing her faults well, she acknowledged them; she was stubborn and, at times, reckless. Those traits had served her well in her time. Taking no note of the danger to life and limb in her work, she plunged in with abandon and was rewarded for being fearless in a profession dominated by men. It was not an attribute that would be appreciated in Lady Brianna Montwain.

Cat felt a sudden respect for all the actors she had worked with in the past. The part of Brianna was, for Cat, a creative stretch. A medieval wife would be submissive to her husband. Brianna would take these men back to the keep, to the priest.

Yet, what if Cat could help the woman? She pulled her horse up to stop.

“If your wife's condition is that serious, we have no time to lose. Send these men with the boy. He will take them to the priest. I don't know if I can help, but I would like to try. You could take me to your wife.”

The large man's expression was one of suspicion.

“You are the daughter of Calum Mackay, yet ye speak as though ye are English,” he accused.

Cat did her best to lend a slight brogue to her accent.

“Nay. My husband is an Englishman. What does it matter if I can help? Please, let me try.”

He stared into her eyes as if assessing her character while the other men admonished him not to trust her. He held up his hand to silence them. Cat was sure he looked at her for a full five minutes before he spoke.

“So be it. I have nothing to lose.” He turned to the men. “Ye take the boy and do as she says. Fetch the priest. I will go back now … for if I am to lose Helen, and she leaves this world, I want to be by her side before it is too late.”

Cat rode swiftly with Maitland to his holding. He made haste to bring her inside and did not stop to make introductions, but brought her immediately to his wife's chamber. The Laird spoke briefly to the midwife as the woman sat at the end of the bed, her hands under the blanket, between the lady's legs.

“She's come from the Mackay holding. She married Montwain, but she offered to help, and I've sent the others for the priest.”

The older woman stood to glare at Cat. She had long, gray hair and was tall, large-boned, and looked capable of throwing Cat out of the chamber bodily.

“A Mackay that means to help?” The woman spoke in outraged disbelief.

“Aye, and if it be my decree, ye shall bend to it!” The Laird could be formidable, for when his eyes turned stormy and he pinned the midwife with his glare, she relented.

“Be you a healer, lady?” she asked. Cat knew if she was thought incompetent she would not be allowed inside the chamber, so she answered the midwife affirmatively.

“Aye, for many a birthing I've seen.” Cat did not go on to explain that all the births were foals. Robert Maitland sat down behind his wife to prop her shoulders upon his chest. The young woman had long, chestnut-colored hair, dark eyes, and was obviously in a great deal of pain. Urgently, she grasped her husband's hand as he stroked her gently, kissing her hair.

“Robert, the priest … he is coming?”

“Aye, lass, Fergus and the others will fetch him. I've brought this one, she means to help ye.”

The midwife turned to Cat, gesturing over to the side of the room, and Cat followed her a few steps from the bed. The older woman spoke in low tones, her compelling words meant only for Cat's ears.

“I fear that the helping ye will do, lady, will be with a burying. The babe is being slowly strangled in the womb. Helen has labored for many hours now, and I fear to lose them both. What say you to give the father false hope?”

“I did not. I only meant to help if I could. What do you mean the baby's being strangled?”

“The cord of life be wrapped about the child's neck.”

“You could tell? You could reach it?”

“Aye, yet I couldnae move it. It pains her so, she screams and pushes me away.”

“Did you try when the pains were not at their worst? She does not appear to have the urge to push yet.”

“Nay, 'Tis true, but it is coming soon, and when she does, that child will die.”

Cat glanced down at the woman's hands. She was very tall and her hands were large. “Let me scrub my hands and get clean. Perhaps I can try to reach it. My hands are smaller.”

“If it will help Helen, I will do anything. Yet, it be not wise to give the father a hope when there be none.”

“We don't know that for certain,” Cat said.

As the afternoon wore on, Cat was to bless every moment that she had spent with her father assisting with the foaling mares. Between one of the pains, the midwife brought Cat's hand to the spot where she could feel the baby's head. Pushing her fingers up inside, she felt the cord around the baby's neck, but could not maneuver to free the child, for too tightly was it wedged in the birth canal.

“Can we turn her over to a different position? Perhaps then we can reach it,” Cat said.

“We can seek to try, for the child cannae be born this way and live,” said the midwife.

The young mother was at once seized with the urge to push and became frantic, crying out in pain.

“Laird, help us! Turn her over! Support her,” the old woman ordered.

Both Cat and the midwife carefully helped the lady turn to her right side, and her husband reached out to encircle her in his arms. He put his large arm under her chest as she gripped the bedding.

They turned Helen, and Cat inserted her hand as gently as possible into the birth canal. She winced when the young woman screamed in pain, but she had no choice but to force her fingers between the baby's neck and the cord. Shifting position had granted her a bit of room to maneuver, and she slowly worked it from the grip around the child's neck. Finally, she pulled the cord down through the birth canal. The Laird did his best to comfort his wife, supporting her, holding her, and speaking to her tenderly through it all.

“It will be soon, love, it will be soon.”

The midwife crowed in delight when she saw that Cat had indeed pulled the cord from of the woman's body. Cat was concerned about the bleeding and said so to the midwife.

“Nay, 'Tis not much blood,” she replied.

They had little time to speak after that, for the birth progressed very rapidly. Robert helped his lady once again turn over, and she pushed in earnest. The midwife snapped orders to Cat, and she obeyed.

Each of the young woman's efforts to push the baby from her body was agonizing. The midwife put a hand on her belly and pressed with every contraction. The second time she pushed, the baby's head emerged, and Cat watched with amazement as the midwife pushed the liquid away from the baby's nose and moved the little babe's shoulder.

The pains came close together, and the young mother was weak, yet could not help screaming when they ripped through her body. Robert sat behind his wife and slipped his hands under her knees, his arms supporting her as would a birthing chair. Helen was at the edge of the bed, and the midwife kept her hand down below the baby's head.

“Lean down here. Get on your knees; if the shoulders push through on the next pain, the child could fall to the floor!”

Cat dropped to her knees as the next contraction gripp ed Helen. She pushed with all her might, and the baby slipped from her body. The tiny, slippery baby boy ended up in Cat's lap, still attached to his mother by the umbilical cord, and Cat's eyes welled with tears as she was overcome with emotion. Handing Cat a soft cloth, the midwife instructed her to push the membrane and the liquid from the baby's mouth.

Cat cleaned the baby while the midwife took a knife and cut the cord. Tying two knots in each end, she pressed on the young mother's stomach again. Robert let out a shout of joy and pulled Helen back into his arms where she collapsed, weeping.

“It's over, my love, it's over.” The man kissed her again and again, overcome with joy. He had feared losing his wife and child, but the dire outcome had not prevailed.

Cat hummed to the baby, wrapping him tightly, stroking him. She gazed on the couple and was struck by the love between them, for the Laird wiped away a tear and continued to hold his wife to his chest. At one point he closed his eyes and interlocked his fingers inside hers to make a fist. Cat suspected that he was saying a prayer when he rested his cheek next to his wife's. At that moment she was very grateful she had come to the Maitland holding; she knew she was in the presence of love.

Roderic had been in a temper from the moment he had awakened to find his wife gone, then learned Kenneth was missing as well. His wife was turning out to be an unusual amount of trouble.

Half his army riding with him, Roderic came upon the clansmen with Kenneth, but was far from consoled. They needed a priest for Robert Maitland's wife, who lay dying he was informed. Cat had offered to help in the meantime.

Gavin, astride his mount, spoke quietly to Roderic.

“Your wife is either an angel of mercy, or she has more courage than sense. She's walked head on into another clan's territory, and may have started a war.”

Roderic sent for the priest without answering Gavin. They rode hard and fast in pursuit, the two Maitland warriors in the lead. Almost two hours behind Brianna and the Laird, it was late in the afternoon when they arrived.

They were surrounded at once. Maitland had prepared for them, and his warriors stood ready to fight as Roderic rode in alone with Gavin. He had left the others behind, hoping to bring Brianna home without bloodshed.

The man met him on the steps of his home, a structure of gray stone.

“You have my wife, Maitland,” Roderic said, his voice ringing with command.

“Aye, I do, Montwain, but it was by her own free will and mercy she came! I'll not need the priest. My wife is alive. She is alive and well, as is my son! Would you like to meet my son, Montwain?”

Roderic was shocked at the question. The man did not appear hostile in his manner, although the men of his clan stood fully armed for battle.