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“Ella does well. She has hope, and the bairn is still with us,” Merry said. “Now hurry.”
Marsh sped away to the keep.
Varrick approached Merry. “All goes well?”
“Too soon to tell and though Lady Fia has strange ways, I do as you say, my lord, and pray she truly has the skills of a knowledgeable healer.”
After the bedding was changed and Ella rested comfortably in fresh garments, Marsh was allowed in the cottage to sit with his wife as she held their son to her naked chest so he could easily hear her heartbeat. He hadn’t searched for his mum’s nipple yet and that worried Fia since by now he should be eager to eat. She wondered what the reason might be. Did he not have enough strength or was it something else?
Varrick sat in a chair in a corner of the cottage, Marsh having offered him it when he had announced that he would wait outside for Fia, and Fia letting him know it could possibly take all night and the next day. Merry occupied a bench near the hearth, remaining there to help.
Fia watched the bairn’s breaths and worried. Something was not right. She turned and stood by the hearth, trying to think of what might be wrong and what she could do.
Varrick watched her, seeing her face tense with worry.
“He’s not breathing! He’s not breathing!” Ella yelled.
Varrick, Marsh, and Merry jumped to their feet.
Fia grabbed the bairn.
Clear his passageway of the birthing flow.
Of course. She had not been there for his birth and had not seen if he had coughed up any of the flow in the birthing sack. He probably lacked the strength to do so. She did as she had watched her grandmother do in such a situation. She laid him on the bed and gently rubbed his chest, to jostle whatever flow remained in him.
“Come on, little one, you can do it. Spit it out,” Fia encouraged softly and the bairn gagged then coughed. Fia turned him on his side, easing his mouth open wider with her pinky finger and rubbed his back. The watery substance flowed from his tiny mouth and after a few moments, he began to wail loudly.
“He’s alive! He’s alive!” Ella cried, tears running down her cheeks.
“And no doubt hungry,” Fia said with a smile. “Though he needs to rest on his side for a bit and have his back rubbed to make sure he gets rid of all that was stuck in him. He just did not have the strength to get it all out.”
“He will be all right?” Marsh asked anxiously.
“He will need more attention than a newborn usually needs—”
“Whatever he needs we will give it to him,” Marsh interrupted, taking hold of his wife’s hand and clinging to it.
“Lots more feeding than usual, more warmth than usual, and more patience than usual, and lots of love, which appears he already has,” Fia said and was pleased to see more of the substance drain from the bairn’s mouth.
“He rids himself of more,” Ella said jubilantly while her tears began to subside.
“Aye, which means he will want to feed soon, a very good sign indeed,” Fia said. “Now rub his back a bit more and when he refuses to stop crying, you will know it is time to feed him.”
“You are not leaving. You cannot leave,” Marsh said as his wife tended to their bairn.
“I will stay until your son feeds twice to make certain all goes well. After that you should do fine,” Fia said. “If for any reason you need me, just send someone to get me and I’ll hurry to you.”
Marsh turned pleading eyes on Varrick.
“I will make certain she comes here posthaste,” Varrick said.
A loud wail from the bairn had them all smiling.
“He is hungry,” Fia said and helped settle the bairn on his mum’s nipple.
“Oh!” Ella said as the bairn suckled eagerly. “He truly is hungry.”
“Another good sign,” Merry said, beaming with her usual smile.
