Page 39 of Warrior’s Lady

Chapter Eleven

Before Rhiannon could pass through the doorway of the bedchamber, a young woman, her face pale and her hands stained with blood, nearly knocked her down.

"Forgive me for intrudin', milord, milady," she panted. "I need your help. Well, not me, exactly. Charlotte and her baby." The young woman's eyes were wild as she shifted her gaze between the door and the bed.

Rhiannon tensed when she sensed Camden behind her. "Explain," Camden demanded.

"Somethin' is wrong. The baby is not comin' as it should," she said. "I sent one of the men for the midwife in Glasgow, but I fear she will arrive too late. Charlotte needs assistance now."

"I'll go to her. I might be of some help." Rhiannon started down the hallway.

"I shall accompany you." Camden strode beside her down the stairs, through the hall, and into the western rooms of the castle. They followed the young woman into a chamber. There were only a few candles scattered about the room, making it difficult to see anything. "We need more candles," Rhiannon commanded as she made her way to the bed. She took charge of the situation and Camden let her.

In the middle of a straw pallet on the floor lay a young woman in a pool of blood. She clutched her distended belly with white-knuckled force.

Four women crowded the space around her feet: Mistress Faulkner and three other women Rhiannon did not recognize. "Can you see any part of the baby?"

Mistress Faulkner nodded, her face pale. "One foot."

"Breech," Rhiannon said, her voice low, barely above a whisper. She'd seen two other breech presentations before — unfortunately, both were with horses. But were the dynamics of birth much different between horses and humans? For Charlotte's sake, she hoped not.

"Any chance we can change her pallet and get rid of all this blood?"

Mistress Faulkner signaled to one of the other women in the room. She hurried away to return a moment later with two young men carrying a straw mattress. They set it on the floor near the hearth, then returned to Charlotte's side. "We are going to move you miss." The two men transported her to the clean bedding but not without an intense groan of pain from Charlotte.

"Many thanks," Rhiannon said.

Both men made a bow before slipping from the room.

The light of the fire made it easier to see. Rhiannon took in Charlotte's flushed face and glittering eyes. "Are you thirsty?"

The woman nodded. Rhiannon stood, then turned to Mistress Faulkner. "If you want her to live, you'll help me, without interfering. Understood?" Her firm tone left no room for argument.

Mistress Faulkner nodded, her eyes misting with tears. "This is my granddaughter. I'll do anything."

Rhiannon nodded with relief that she would not be challenged. "I'll need someone to mix me a tisane of valerian and germander to numb her pain while I try to turn the child."

"Turn the child?"

"What kind of witchcraft is that?" two of the women questioned in unison.

Camden came to stand beside Rhiannon. "Do you know what you are doing?" he asked.

"Aye," she said with more confidence than she felt. Now was not the time to tell him all her experience had been in observing her mother with deliveries of the village babies and helping with the animals in her father's stable. Charlotte would no doubt lose her baby, and probably her own life, if someone didn't at least try to help her immediately.

"Then proceed." He left the room briefly only to return with two large candelabra that he set on the hearth near the bed. He sat in a chair across the room from her. He clutched the small linen package that Mother Agnes had asked her to deliver to him. He stared at the bundle in his hands, with a dark expression on his face, as though he were trying to make a difficult decision.

"I won't die," the young woman whispered, bringing Rhiannon's attention back to the pallet. "You'll see. My baby and I will live."

"Of course you will," Rhiannon smiled shakily. "You are a fighter. I can see it in your eyes."

Mistress Faulkner returned with the steaming tisane. Rhiannon accepted the mug from her then held it to Charlotte's lips. "I need you to drink as much of this as you can."

"Wait," Camden said. "It looks too hot. Allow me to take it by the window for a moment to cool it."

"That isn't necessary," Rhiannon said, unsettled by his interference. Her nerves stretched taut with the responsibility of what she was about to do.

"I insist." He took the cup from her hands and made his way to the window on the far side of the room. There, he threw the shutters open and with his back to all, cooled the liquid contents in the chill midnight air. He fumbled with something in his hands, then turned back toward the room's occupants. "That should do it. I appreciate your indulgence."