Winter Heart, page 23
"What's going on?" Niamh was immediately awake, stepping into her slippers and donning a thin robe.
"It’s your friend.” The midwife panted, her hand to her chest. Niamh’s blood turned cold. “What about my friend? Who is it?” She said, grabbing the midwife’s shaking arm.
“Ailish. She-she went into labor. It's too early, by a month, at least." The midwife said, her eyes wide. “She’s in the stables. We couldn’t move her further than that. She tried to come find you.”
Without another word, Niamh grabbed her apothecary bag from near the door and followed the midwife down far too many stairs. Even before they reached the stables, Ailish’s thin and distressed cries could be heard echoing across the courtyard.
Niamh was already running through the procedures in her head, checking off all of the stages of delivery that may have come before if she was already screaming. As they burst into the stables, running to one of the closer stalls, she had her confirmation. Ailish would have already been in labor for most of the evening at this point, and the two other midwives gathered around her tried in vain to soothe her pains. Niamh wished her husband could be there with them, but he would have to hear about it later.
Niamh immediately rolled up her sleeves and stepped into a position where she could see all that she needed to. As she thought, Ailish was dilated enough at that hour to give birth properly. It's clear she's having the proper amount of contractions. Niamh saw, with dismay, that all three of the midwives present were only newly trained, and were all slightly younger than her. No one of significant experience, other than herself for as much as it was worth, was to be seen.
"How long have you been working with her?" She asked one of the other women near her.
"Nearly four hours now." The midwife answered. Niamh nodded. That was nothing unusual. She had seen births take up to nearly twelve hours when she assisted the healers of Wolfrau. Ailish's face was twisted with pain and sweat soaked the hay around her. Niamh rubbed her ankles soothingly.
"Ailish, I need you to focus and breathe with me." Niamh laid a hand on her friend’s rounded stomach. Just as she had hoped, Ailish opened her panicked eyes and met Niamh's calm blue ones. Ailish visibly relaxed. “Niamh. You came.”
"Yes. I’m here.” Niamh said, “Breathe in." She commanded softly, breathing in herself as a demonstration. Ailish followed suit. "And out." Again, Ailish obeyed. The two of them continued breathing together, even as Niamh could see her friend was clearly in excruciating pain.
"Keep breathing, and I will help you from there. Your job is to breathe, Ailish. Can you do that for me?"
Ailish nodded sharply, her shoulders tense.
She turned to the midwives. "I need someone to bring me fresh hot water, and crush the sage that I have brought in that bag." Niamh sprung into action, acting completely on instinct and her healer's intuition. Start with the basics, then go from there. Her mother’s voice popped into her mind, repeating the instructions that she often told herself. She took a moment amidst the stress of the situation to wash her hands and take a deep breath. It was always better to start with taking a breath of one's own before asking the mothers to do it themselves. Another thing she had learned over her years in Wolfrau.
Once the midwives had provided the hot water, Niamh stirred the crushed sage into it. The swirling herbs helped calm her own mind, and she set to work running through the birthing procedures. As she worked, Niamh selected the most experienced of the three new midwives to help her in holding the wetted cloths to the right locations. The other two were tasked with providing supplies and speaking soothing words to the mother.
After the second hour of this, Niamh felt dread stirring in the back of her mind. Much to Niamh’s distress, Ailish was seemingly less and less responsive as the minutes dragged on. Her breathing slowed.
Something is wrong...
The baby is nowhere near being delivered... Niamh could sense that even the midwives were beginning to fade. The younger girls were even seemingly relieved that she was no longer screaming in pain and instead seemed to be relaxed. No one but Niamh was concerned.
While Niamh was distracted studying the faces around her, she felt something hot gush over her hands. A look down revealed exactly what she dreaded seeing most. Where there should have been the head and shoulders of a baby, there was instead a growing stain of bright red over the sheets, the Ailish's legs, over Niamh's hands, and dripping to the floor.
No. No, not again. Please not again. Just as in every one of her dreams, her hands were covered in blood. It ran down her arm, staining the sleeves of her nightgown. Everything seemed suddenly far away, as if she had been pulled from the scene.
Is this another dream? As much as she tried, she couldn't look away from her hands. It's not real... Niamh knew she was breathing, though she couldn't hear the sound.
She felt herself standing on solid wood, but her feet suddenly felt as if they were not her own. It was as if she was standing outside of herself, watching the scene unfold around her.
"Miss Niamh."
Her breath came in short gasps. It's not real. A pool of a woman's blood continued to grow around her. Or is it Nythaniel's blood? Who is dying?
"Miss Niamh!"
Everyone in the room was panicking. Niamh could only stand and watch, paralyzed. The only sound she heard was the drip of blood to the fabric of her nightgown as it flowed down her hands.
"What do we do?" The younger midwife grasped Niamh's wrist, nearly crying.
"We..." Niamh started, still staring between her bloodied hands and Ailish, dying on the bed. "We need..."
Ailish’s face looked more like the Lady of Wolfrau. Her eyes closed, her chest rising in shallow waves. Sweat pouring down her pale face.
"What?! We need what?"
"We need Master Hael." His was the only name she could bring to mind at that moment. "Go get Master Hael."
At the sudden clear direction, the young midwife ran from the stables. Clarity was beginning to make its way back to Niamh, and she counted the seconds as they ticked by. Mentally following the girl to Hael's house, Niamh did her best to staunch the bleeding with the tools she had. She dared not look down again, nor pay any attention to her hands as they worked.
Everyone waited with baited breath. Ailish was losing life by the second. Niamh listened to the drip of her sweat falling to the wood floor to stay focused.
They didn't need to wait long. There was a flash of orange light from outside, accompanied by a sudden wave of heat. Hael stepped into the room, hurrying immediately to take Niamh's position. He didn't acknowledge her beyond a quick nod before he set to work.
Hael held more healing magic in his hands at once than Niamh could muster in a week, and he needed no thread to channel his power. His hands glowed with a warm yellow light, pulsing with his heartbeat. He laid a healing hand on Ailish’s abdomen, causing her to settle into a truly restful state. His magic went to work as all of them watched, soothing pain, stopping the bleeding, and bringing her body into alignment. The other young healers looked on in awe, and Niamh could only do the same. Hael had at least fifty more years of experience on her, and it was apparent in his efficiency and bedside manner.
"Niamh." Hael's cold, focused voice interrupted her thoughts. "I want you to use your magic to turn the baby while I'm doing this. On my word, you will coax him into delivery while I heal the ruptures. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Niamh, glad to have something to focus on, went up to stand at Ailish's side. If Hael was angry with her, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. He only spoke to the mother in soothing, calm instructions. There was nothing but concentrating, concerned tenderness in his eyes.
Niamh did as she was told, streaming her magic into her friend’s womb to internally turn the baby inside in the right direction. It didn't protest, even cooperating with her as she gently wrapped it in soft magic. Thanks to the connection that her healing magic gave her, Niamh could feel that the baby was as eager to come into the world as she was to deliver it. This gave her a sense of calm even in the midst of the chaos. She smiled.
You're almost there.
She closed her eyes, letting her magic sweep her away into the task. The room, with all its anxious eyes watching her work, disappeared and fell into a haze. Her magic blended and intertwined with her Master's like waves that run over each other and mingle as they crash against a rocky shore. Master and apprentice's magic worked together, in and around the other, healing as they went.
"Niamh."
With a gentle but firm push, Niamh tugged the baby's tiny body into the correct position just as Hael sent one last surge of magic in and around the process taking place.
Only minutes later, a healthy boy emerged wailing into Hael's waiting hands.
Niamh was snapped back to reality by the sound of crying, seeing Hael hand the boy gingerly to the midwives to be washed off. They did exactly that and moments later, handed him to his mother to nestle against her chest. Ailish was showing good color again, all her pain forgotten.
Hael still didn't say a word to Niamh, even as he smiled and congratulated the new mother.
Only after he determined that all was well, that Ailish was out of danger, and the midwives were put to work cleaning the mess, did Hael turn to take his leave. It had been less than an hour since the time that Niamh was summoned from her room, but it felt like an eternity. Hael passed by without looking at her. Maybe, in the midst of all the confusion, Niamh might’ve been spared the lecture she deserved and be able to go back to bed.
"My office. Now."
She thought wrong.
34
THEY WALKED THE LONG hallways back to Hael's office in strained silence. If Niamh couldn't tell that Hael was angry back in the stables, she definitely could now. Wrath seemed to billow off of him like clouds of steam.
All futile hope she had that he would go easy on her for this mistake was gone as soon as his heavy door shut with a click.
"What was that, Niamh?" Hael threw his bloodied cloak over the back of his chair and turned on her. He met her eyes with a furious heat. "What was that?"
Shame flooded her. "I don't know."
"You needed my help with a complicated birth? That's something that should have been easy for you. You're telling me that situation was unmanageable for you?" Hael's normally brown eyes seemed on fire, burning through her.
"Your hesitance. Your uncertainty. Your failure to perform your responsibility as my heir apparent, as a healer, almost cost that woman her life. And her child." Hael’s voice cracked strangely at the last word. He held his hands behind his back, as if restraining from throwing things. His bird ruffled its feathers at being disturbed. She winced.
"Would you care to inform me what made you hesitate? This isn't like you, Niamh."
"Th-there was blood." As soon as the words fell from her mouth, she regretted them.
Hael would have laughed if he wasn't so incredibly furious with her. "Blood. You saw blood."
She nodded feebly. She couldn't even gather the words to explain. "It was on my hands."
Hael ran a tired hand down his face, seemingly defeated. He sighed. "There was blood on your hands."
Tears welled in Niamh's eyes. Why can't I tell him?
"I haven't been...sleeping...very well." She knew it sounded ridiculous. Juvenile. Stop making excuses.
Hael stared at her. "You're telling me that a mother almost died because you were tired."
"Yes." She cursed inwardly. "No. I-" Niamh's exhale shook. "I haven't been able to sleep for- a while- and every time-" She looked at her hands, blood still crusted under her fingernails. The sleeves of her robe were stained with it.
And every time I open my eyes, all I see is blood.
She wanted to tell him everything. About the nightmares, about Maire’s vague threats. She even wanted to tell him about Maewyn..And Fane. All that she wanted to say died on the edge of her tongue.
"With all that's been going on; with this mysterious illness going around that I'm trying to solve, I can't have you, my best healer, suddenly dropping all of your duties." Hael was pacing now,. "So, I will ask you again: What seems to be the problem that is so pressing that it's ruining your ability to do your job?"
Hael waited, watching her and seething.
"I feel like I've been halluc-" Niamh stopped, her mouth paralyzed.
"Yes?" Hael was losing what sliver of patience he had left.
"I..I can't-" Why can't I just say something? Her eyes filled with frustrated tears. You're already on thin ice. You're failing at the one thing that he entrusted to you. Am I going insane? Her mental barrage on herself only continued unhindered.
"I-I.." What did she need? How could he help? Even saying that out loud sent Niamh down another spiral of shame. She was a healer, the heir to the Head Magician, she should know if there was something wrong with her. But deep down, Niamh knew, there was nothing to heal. She was a disappointment, and she knew it.
Hael sighed again, closing his eyes and sitting in the chair behind his desk in defeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Niamh. Do you understand why I chose you to be my apprentice? Most magicians take on apprentices constantly, but you were my first one in many years."
Niamh dared not take her own seat. She didn't deserve to.
Hael continued without waiting for a reply. "Because you have such talent. Focus, control. You also have intense empathy and compassion. That is what makes you a good healer. If you don't have all of those things, how can I trust you to do your job?"
"I'm sorry, Master. I'm trying." Oh, how she despised that whining edge to her voice. Hael’s bird focused on her, as if seeing right through her. She could hardly look at it. Niamh squelched the indignance rising inside. Hael was right, as he always was.
"Niamh." Hael watched her intently, all ferocity replaced by heavy weariness. Almost as heavy as her own. "If you can't perform the duties that I have trained you to do. If there are any more careless mistakes, I-" He paused, as if he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Niamh held her breath.
"If you falter again, I am going to have to reevaluate your eligibility as my apprentice."
Niamh swallowed every ounce of protest. There was nothing she could say. Did the queen say something to him? But Hael knows that I’m not usually like this. Shame bit at her heart like a dark wolf, and she bowed her head under it. Niamh could barely speak for the lump in her throat, opting to nod to hide the tears welling in her eyes.
Hael waved her out without another word.
Niamh turned and left, pausing as she closed the door to lean against its hard wood for comfort. I have to be better. She brought a shaky hand to her forehead, wiping her eyes to keep the tears from dripping freely. Why do I keep making mistakes? The ringing in her ears and numbness in her heart did not let up as she pushed off from the door back to her waiting bed.
Out of sight from the rest of the world, Niamh let her emotions wash over her. Her pillows were soon soaked from her tears.
35
FANE HAD BEEN AVOIDING both Niamh and Maewyn since the incident in the cottage. He’d taken to staying out later with Rohyr and checking around every corner for the both of them. Niamh, he wasn’t worried too much about, since she was likely to avoid him just as much. But Maewyn was another story. One evening, after he’d finished his work in the Library, Fane was taking his usual shortcut through the main hall of the castle. He began his usual tactic of skulking against the wall, around columns, and dodging servants, when he heard familiar voices on the verge of argument.
"It's no use giving me that look, Niamh. You don't want to go, I know." Hael's voice said. Fane couldn't decide if he sounded amused or not.
"Why can't Maewyn go? I've got so much to do." Niamh's tone was bordering on a whine. Fane smirked. That was new.
"The queen has specifically requested that you do. And I don't trust Maewyn to bring back accurate information, frankly. And she has work to do with her embroidery."
There was a tense silence.
With a sigh, Niamh relented. "When do I leave?"
"As soon as possible."
"And I'm only heading up north? What do you want me to bring back?"
"Information. I need to know the situation, the symptoms people have, how many people are sick, things like that."
"I'm going alone?"
"Do you want to?"
Niamh was silent again. Fane could almost picture her face as she thought about her answer. "Well.. No. Not really."
"I have just the person. Fane!" Fane jumped at the sound of his name. Hael suddenly turned toward him where he waited behind the corner. "If you'll stop skulking around corners and eavesdropping on others’ conversations, you might be of some use."
Fane emerged rather sheepishly, joining the two of them. Niamh flicked icy eyes in his direction for only a moment before watching her boots with an unusual interest.
"You'll escort my apprentice to the northern towns, I'll let the Keeper know that you'll not be in the Library."
"What?!" Niamh protested, looking at Hael as if he’d just announced some great betrayal. Fane cringed inwardly. "Master, I can assure you-"
"I'll expect you both back before the Festival, if you please." Hael was apparently settled on the matter. He turned and walked down the hallway. "Be sure to dress warmly, Fane. We don't want Niamh to have to carry your frozen body all the way back by herself." He said over his shoulder. Fane could have sworn he laughed to himself. There truly was no reprieve. The master mage was gone before Niamh could protest further.
The pair stood alone in painfully awkward silence. Niamh still refused to look at him, the tips of her ears turning red as the seconds ticked on like hours. Tightness guarded her every move, and she kept her hands closely clasped to her middle.
