After several minutes, Clíodhna’s certainty that she’d imagined the woman grew. However, she reappeared, this time carrying several bronze cauldrons of water. After depositing them along the wall, she then rifled through Adhna’s things to find several cloths, a strip of old leather, and a meadskin. She handed the last to Clíodhna. “Take a good swig of that, Clíodhna. It will help with the pain.”
Without questioning the woman or where she’d come from, Clíodhna drank deep of the sweet, potent alcohol. The suffusing warmth through her limbs made her sigh as the pain dimmed. It would come back, but for now, she had a reprieve.
“Now, let me just get you better situated. Did you just lie down on the bare floor? Tsk, tsk. You’ve had children before. You should know better. Now, a few cushions here, for under your knees, and one under your back. That should help. Doesn’t it help?”
Clíodhna remained stunned into silence. She didn’t feel at a loss for words often.
“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m Brighid, and as you may have gathered, I’m well versed in midwifery. You might even say I’m an expert.” Brighid let out a deep, loud laugh at her own quip.
Brighid. As in the goddess of healing? Clíodhna narrowed her eyes at the woman.
“Yes, the very same. You needn’t glare at me, young lady. I know who you are and what you’ve done and who you’re to be. At the moment, though, none of that matters. What matters now is that child you’re about to bear. We shall bring him into this world as quickly and cleanly as we might. It’s not every day a Fae has a child!”
Brighid examined her by peering between her legs, probing with her fingers, pressing against her belly, and mumbling under her breath. “No, that’s not right. Danú take it, I’ll need to turn the stubborn child before he hurts himself.”
A sprite flew in, took in the scene, and flitted out again. Another followed, then three more. The small roundhouse buzzed with Fae creatures, their sharp little beetle wings clicking and rattling so loud, Clíodhna covered her ears.
“Out! Out, the lot of you! I have work to do. Now, Clíodhna, sip this tea. It will help relax your muscles.”
She struggled to sit up, but Brighid held her down. “No, don’t rise. I’ll pour it in your mouth. Don’t worry, it’s no longer scalding hot.”
The warm liquid dribbled in her mouth and she coughed, choking on it before she mastered the trick of swallowing it as it poured. She jerked, causing more to spill from the cup and almost drowning her.
“Not so much, child! This is potent magic! Ah well, done is done.”
Within a few moments, her muscles eased and melted within her body. Clíodhna’s vision grayed to a pleasant fuzziness. She drifted on the cloud of whimsy, musing she might sleep for eternity.
“Now, with what little will you might have left, I want you to push. The babe is ready to crown soon and needs a bit of help to finish the journey.”
Clíodhna tried to strain, familiar with the routine, but her muscles refused to cooperate.
“Oh, I might have given you too much. Never mind, it will wear off soon enough. Try again.”
Strain as she might, her body ignored her attempts.
“Danú take it, that baby is ready to come. I must do this myself. Be still.” Brighid placed her hands over Clíodhna’s taut belly, a warm magic suffusing the skin and sinking into her. The moan this time came from pleasure and delight, rather than pain. Inside, the warmth felt delicious, like a summer swim in the hot sun.
The baby moved, turning and twisting inside her. The pain dulled, flying away on the clattering wings of a Fae sprite. She let out a long, low sigh at the release.
“Ah yes, much better. Now the babe is ready to come out. Can you push yet?”
She tried, but her muscles remained in languid repose, refusing to obey her commands.
“Very well. Let’s try something else.”
Once again, Brighid laid her hands on Clíodhna’s belly, but lower this time. The babe moved, pulsing like a heartbeat closer to her cleft. Once, twice, thrice, his head stretched her wide. Once, twice, thrice, the pain of the taut skin made her scream. Once, twice, thrice, her scream died into a whimper. Again and again, Brighid coaxed the child out of her womb, but the baby refused to get past a certain point.
Adhna arrived at that point, frantic and desperate eyes darting everywhere. “What can I do? How can I help?”
“You can help by getting out of here. Wait, have you any seaweed?”
“Seaweed? Why would I have seaweed?”
“Never mind. Get more water.”
He scowled, eyeing the cauldrons. “You have plenty of water.”
“Go get more! I need you out of my hair. I’m busy enough without babysitting a panicked father. Shoo!”
With a longing glance at Clíodhna and a blown kiss, he ran out of the roundhouse. Clíodhna still floated on her relaxing cloud and didn’t care. All that mattered now was the sweet relief from pain.
Once, twice, thrice, Brighid pulled the baby closer to birth. This time, however, his head crowned and the rest of the body slipped after.
“Another few pushes for the afterbirth, my dear. There we go. Much better, no? A wee, fine lad you’ve borne. Have you decided on a name?”
Her son’s thin squalls filled the room, tugging her back from her cloud-dream. “Rumann. Adhna and I decided on Rumann.”
“Rumann it is. A good, strong name for the youngling. He may not become a hero, but he will father a few, I’ll tell you that. You’ve started a good legacy here, Clíodhna.”
Eager to hold her baby, she stretched out her arms. Brighid cleaned and swaddled the babe after cutting his cord
