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Personal? Did the same personal business draw him out during the night of a snowstorm?
I pulled my boots on and rummaged through my generously stocked wardrobe for a cloak before skipping down the stairs and into the night.
The snow made the night glow with a magical softness. I pulled the hood over my head to hide my silvery locks. My nightdress flapped against my legs as I stepped into Caedryn’s footprints, so I pulled my cloak tighter.
Within a few minutes, I approached a tiny house at the end of an alley. Inside, moaning gradually rose in volume, becoming an all-out wail.
Pain. Tremendous pain. By the Creator! Voices rose with urgency. I imagined all the possible scenarios. Was Caedryn torturing someone? That was preposterous. He had displayed no evidence of a cruel nature.
The wail subsided and panting started. I leaned against the doorframe, wondering if I should barge in. I sensed Caedryn’s apprehension. The room was swirling with nervousness, dread, and anxiety. Not quite the feelings of a group of people torturing someone.
I thought the worst when the moaning began again. The next time, shouts accompanied the growing chaos.
“Easy, Siwan,” Caedryn said. “You’re so close.”
“I can’t do this,” a woman moaned.
“Yes, you can.”
How could I’ve been so stupid? A woman was in labor, and Caedryn was delivering the baby.
But he was too worried. He lacked confidence in himself. Something wasn’t right if he felt this way. I creaked the door open and slipped inside. The room was hot from a stoked fire. Immediately four faces regarded me. So much for sneaking in unnoticed.
The first man, a guard, stepped in front of me. “You need to leave.”
“Wait,” Caedryn said. “It’s Lady Niawen.”
The guard stepped aside. “I beg your pardon.”
I nodded and moved to the bed.
Caedryn stood. His face was sweaty. Siwan panted in the bed. A man, who had been pacing, must have been her husband. He was the man who had come for Caedryn in the night. I recognized him and his glow. He worked in the stables, exercising the horses. The other person was a young woman mopping Siwan’s brow. Possibly her sister; they carried a family resemblance.
“I’ve tried for three days to turn the baby.” Caedryn swiped at his brow. “I was successful yesterday, but the babe flipped back. And now the labor has started.”
“She’s breech?” I asked.
“Footling,” Caedryn said.
“She can be delivered, but we’ll have to be patient.”
“Damnation, Niawen. Why didn’t I tell you—?”
“Instead of sneaking off into the night? I asked. “Because you’re cocky.”
“I’m glad you pointed that out. We can all rest assured.”
I wanted to punch Caedryn, but Siwan groaned, so I rushed to her feet. “Get her to the edge of the bed. Once the body has emerged, the babe must hang to engage the head. I’ll keep the infant warm so she won’t draw breath. Don’t open the door or create a draft.” I touched Siwan’s leg. “You can do this.”
FORTY-THREE
Caedryn and I followed the guard back to the citadel.
“Are you going to tell me what possessed you to keep Siwan’s labor a secret?” I growled as I lifted my feet through the snow. They felt extra heavy, and my toes were cold. An unusual sensation for an emrys. Then again, I didn’t usually trudge through deep snow. I also felt hurried. Urgency to find shelter filled me even though the keep was yards away. “Is that why you were pacing?” A storm brewing indeed.
“Deiniol came to me three days ago. He said his wife was having pre-labor pains. The midwife tried to turn the baby weeks ago while room remained in the womb, but she had no luck. He begged me to try. I had never used my light in such a way before. I’m no healer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. Too much pride. “I could have done it.”
