I crossed the lawn to meet Ute.
“What is it?” I whispered, looking closely at her.
She cast a glance back at Banquo, seemed to steel her nerve, but then a small sob escaped her lips.
“I… I am with child,” she whispered.
When I opened my mouth to tell her it was no matter for me, she tapped me on the arm gently to stop me.
“You’re skilled with herbcraft. I want to be rid of the babe,” she said.
“Oh, Ute. Are you certain? You know I follow the old ways. A child born out of wedlock is not a probl—”
“No! I want to be rid of it. Will you please help me? I trust you, my lady. You’re such a good woman. You deserve a good life,” she said then broke out into a sob. She sucked her tears back. “You’ve been so good to me. Please, will you help me?”
“Maybe if you told the father,” I began then stopped cold when her eyes, wet with tears, met mine.
“No,” she said with a shaking gasp.
It was not my business to press her for details. If she wanted to tell me, she would. “It’s not without risk,” I told her.
“I know.”
“I… I will have difficulty attending both you and Gwen. But Lord Banquo was druid-trained. He can watch over you.”
“Do you trust him to keep my secret?”
“I’d trust him with my very soul.”
Ute paused then nodded. “Go ahead and make the draft. I’ll go sit by the fire.”
“Very well.” My head was reeling. Poor Ute. This was not what I wanted for her. She knew the cost. This would be painful, and there was a risk she may not have a child again. And it was ill-timed with Gwen’s baby coming. But at least now I knew why she had come, knew what had been troubling her. She’d wanted to get away from the village to take care of this problem and do so in secret.
I motioned to Banquo to join me at the wagon.
Still weeping, Ute sat down by the fire.
“I need your gloves,” I told Banquo.
“What’s happening?” Banquo asked quietly.
“Ute has asked me for a tonic to rid her of a child. Will you help me watch over her?”
Banquo paled. “Whose child?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say.”
Banquo frowned hard then pulled out his gloves and handed them to me. I slipped them on.
“You must be very careful with the mixture in your state,” he cautioned.
“Yes, you’re right. I will be.”
Banquo put his hand on my arm, his eyes meeting mine. “Do you ever get the feeling it’s just not meant to be between us. Maybe never again?”
Tears pricked at the corners or my eyes. “Speak on it no more.”
Banquo squeezed my arm then let me go.
My medicines were inside. “Give Ute an ale. I’ll be back soon,” I said then headed within. There I found Lulach and Thora sleeping together. Sigurd had lain down beside Gwen. Both were sleeping, but Gwen winced in her sleep. She wouldn’t rest for long.
I opened my box of medicines and pulled out what I needed. Epona had taught me the mixture. Working carefully with my gloves on, I ground the herbs and mushrooms into a fine powder. It had a sharp smell that made my nose burn. When I was done, I used a simple wooden cup to prepare the drink. It would need to be burnt afterward, as would the tools I’d used to make it. Working carefully, I made the concoction. If prepared it wrong, it could kill her. She could bleed to death. If it was not strong enough, the child would still be born but deformed. Epona had warned of the use of such heavy hearth magic. I would have advised Ute against it once more if not for the look on her face. She was desperate to be rid of the babe.
While Ute was my maid, I did not own her. I could not force her to tell me what had happened, or who the father was. Perhaps the man was married. Or maybe she did not want to ruin her future prospects by having a child out of wedlock. No matter the reason, it was her reason alone. I would not press her.
My work done, I set the tools and the drink on a tray then carried them outside.
Banquo and Ute sat together.
Banquo was speaking kindly to her. She nodded mutely, dashing tears from her cheeks. When she saw me walking toward her, she paled then rose to meet me.
“Are you certain?” I asked her once more.
She nodded then took the drink.
“Drink it all at once then lie down. You’ll have pain like you do during your monthly cycles, but it will be worse.”
“How long?”
“A day. No more.”
“I am sorry. I know that I suggested you bring Lulach, but I might not be able to watch over him as I intended.”
“No matter,” Banquo said. “I’ll take care of him.”
Blessed Banquo.
Ute returned to the fire where she sat and drained the drink, wincing at the taste. She threw the empty cup into the flames.
I handed the tray to Banquo who carefully pulled off my gloves. He took the materials and disappeared into the night with them. I sat down beside Ute and took her hand.
“Whatever went wrong, I am very sorry,” I said softly.
“Thank you, Gruoch.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” she said with a soft sob.
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close.
Banquo returned once more, his hands empty, and sat down beside us.
It was late in the night when Sigurd called for me. I woke to discover that sometime during the night, I’d fallen asleep by the fire leaning against Banquo, his arm wrapped around me, my head on his chest. Ute slept on the ground nearby. She shook in her sleep, looked very pale, and was sweating.
“She doesn’t have any fever. I checked on her. I’ll watch over her,” Banquo whispered. “But we should tell Sigurd what’s happening.”
“Discreetly,” I said.
Banquo nodded.
I rose and went to Gwendelofar who was sitting on her bed, gripping handfuls of straw as she gritted her teeth.
“Well, your little one about ready?” I asked her, helping her lie down once more so I could have a look. After a quick examination, I saw she was very close.
I stayed with Gwen the rest of the night. It was mid-morning when, at last, Gwen’s baby arrived. After a good hour of pushing, along with a lot of swearing in Rus which I was glad I did not understand, a little boy was finally born. His hair was as red as his face, and he squalled loudly.
On hearing his son’s cry, Sigurd appeared at the door.
I cleaned the child off then handed him to his mother. Gwen’s labor had been hard, but she’d delivered cleanly, unlike my own birth which had left me torn and in pain.
Sigurd rushed to his wife, kissing her and his newborn child. They were all smiles and love.
“Have you decided on a name?” I asked.
“Uffe,” Sigurd said.
Rising, I washed off my hands and removed my apron. I headed back outside. Banquo had already given the children their breakfast and was playing a game with Neda, Lulach, and Thora. Ute was nowhere to be seen.
“Neda, you have a little brother,” I told the little girl, who stopped and looked up at me.
“Can I see him?”
I nodded.
The girl ran off to join her family.
“Ute?” I asked Banquo as I stretch my back. My whole body ached, my muscles feeling like I had carried a thousand Gwendelofars to Edinburgh and back.
Banquo exhaled deeply then nodded. “It’s done. She’s all right. She was sitting by the stream when I saw her last,” he said, motioning across the field.